Going Back
by Rean Darkle
Summary: A year after nursing his friend back to health, Henry Clerval finds himself and Victor playing host to a mysterious young woman in their University apartment. She claims to be searching for a creature. This puts Victor on edge, and Henry can't help but agree when the details are revealed to him. Timetravel fic, Henry POV mainly.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This story takes place approximately a year or so after Victor completes his construction of his creature. The narration comes from the point of view of Henry Clerval, but like the original novel, I may put in pieces where the narrator is someone else, possibly Victor and/or his creature. This story is a reworking of my previous Frankenstein fanfic, "To Throw a Wrench in it All". In later chapters I may switch the rating to T or MA for adult situations, language, and possible violence.**

**"Frankenstein" and all characters from the novel belong to Mary Shelley.  
**

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Chapter 1

I'm not exactly sure when the girl had first shown up. Victor seemed perfectly at ease to let her remain in our shared apartment, though at some times it would seem rather that he was incapable of dismissing her. She vexed him in some unexplainable manner, but I could not fathom why other than her sole presence and imposition on our resources. Even so, she did not ask for much; just to have a place to sleep and to have a meager share of our evening meal. She agreed to perform the upkeep of the apartment in return. For the rest of the day she was gone, wandering around town in her odd garments, fulfilling some personal project she would not enlighten me of. I knew in my heart that this endeavor of hers was the real reason for Victor's discomfort, for every night at dinner when she returned, he would make the same inquiry.

"Anything?" His voice was always brusque.

The girl would take off her coat and sit down at the place I had set for her. She'd take a couple sips of wine and answer with a sigh, "No. Not yet."

As soon as these words passed her lips my friend would relax and his mood would lighten. The two would not exchange any conversation other than this for the rest of the night. So it fell to me to be doubly engaging and cheerful towards the both of them.

Her name was Tori Aizen and she claimed to have come from America. I suppose this would account for the strange clothes she had first shown up in and her terrible accent. It was all too obvious that French was not her native tongue. It was fortunate for her that both Victor and I could speak English. However, in this one area I have the rare pleasure of confessing my aptitude for foreign languages slightly surpassed that of my friend, something I was thankful for in this instance. I will not lie—I found the girl attractive, and a curiosity to say the least. As I mentioned before Victor did not talk with her often, and when he did it was away from my ears and usually ended with him slamming the door on her or making some abrupt exit. It was up to me to entertain our mysterious guest, and I was delighted to do so.

Approximately a week after her arrival, classes at the university had started again. Victor had long switched his focus on the natural sciences to join in on my own studies. I was overjoyed at having my life-long friend and brother accompany me in my learning, but I could not help but notice he was still not well even a year after his recovery. His physical health had returned to him, but it was not hard to see he had been using these classes as a distraction from whatever nightmares plagued him. He would not even go near the medical campus and was still startled whenever his eyes fell upon any sort of laboratory equipment. I never questioned my friend about the nature or source of his anxieties for fear that it would only cause more unrest in his mind, but looking back now I wonder if confronting him would have been for the better.

Another couple weeks passed in this manner. It was on a Saturday afternoon that Miss Tori returned to our apartment early. Classes were dismissed on weekends so Victor and I had taken advantage of the reprieve to practice some of our foreign linguistics. She walked in the door and removed her coat like always. She smoothed the front of her olive-green dress before sitting down on the couch in front of our humble fire. She began taking the pins out of her short brown hair and laying them across her lap.

"You are back early today, Miss Aizen. Is everything well?" I asked, curious, as always, to why her routine was different.

She smiled. "I'm fine, Henry. I was just feeling a little tired and figured I'd get out of the cold."

"It is nearly the start of summer. Your home must be very warm."

"You could say that." She turned back to the fire and continued taking her hairpins down. When she was finished, her short locks curled festively around her face, as if they were ribbons, loosed to follow their own unsystematic orientations. The style was almost boyish in length and cut.

I went back to studying with Victor, who had remained silent for the entire exchange. We were just about to start on a chapter pertaining to the usage of present and past participles in the Arabic language when there was a loud knock at the door. A sudden look of fear flashed across my friend's face. His eyes darted from the door to the girl who also seemed mildly anxious. I got up and answered the call but not before the caller could issue another frantic rapping. I opened the door and found a wearied messenger on our apartment threshold. His breathing was shallow and quick as if he had been running.

"Urgent message for Mssrs Frankenstein and Clerval." He pulled a sealed envelope from his jacket and handed it to me. He straightened up and held an expectant hand. I absentmindedly dropped a couple coins from my pocket into his hand. With a quick bow he left and I closed the door.

"What is it?" The question had come from both my companions in the room. They exchanged a brief glance and then turned their attention back to me.

"It's from your father, Victor." I handed him the envelope.

He hastily broke the seal and pulled the encased letter out. Miss Tori had gotten up from her seat to stand by us. Her arm alighted on mine. I glanced quickly at her and it seemed as if she were holding her breath.

Victor continued scanning the letter until his eyes floated off the page and focused on nothing at all. "She's gone."

Miss Aizen was quicker in her speech than I. "Wait, what? Who's gone? Is your little brother all right?"

Frankenstein appeared not to have heard her questions. I gingerly took the paper from his hand and began to read it in a quiet voice.

_Beloved Son and Friend Clerval,_

_ I regret that this correspondence should find you when you both should be enjoying your time at University in the depths of higher learning. Especially after you, Victor, having just recovered from a harrowing illness. I am thankful that good Henry was there for you in your time of need. Just as I am thankful once more for his presence in your life, as I would never want to tell you what I must now whilst you are on your own._

_ A terrible tragedy has befallen our family, in that your beloved cousin and my dearest adopted daughter has gone missing. The authorities have looked all over town and have been investigating her disappearance, but there is no sign of our dearest Elizabeth. There was no break in and no sign of any struggle within her chambers. It is as if she simply vanished. All of her wardrobe and belongings are untouched and she has left no note or indication that she would leave or was running away._

_ Please come home as soon as possible. Your absence has made our home feel lacking in the last years, but now, with the disappearance of your cousin, it is unbearable. I await your and friend Clerval's return and hope that your journey will find you safely back home in the arms and presence of those who love you._

_ Love,_

_ Your Ever-adoring Father_

I looked over to Victor. He sat in front of the hearth, his elbows resting on his knees and his head held in his hands. My eyes moved downward and I realized that the girl was still grasping my arm, though to my relief she had continued breathing. She appeared confused and concerned, but also, if I was not mistaken, mildly relieved.

She noticed where my gaze was directed and promptly removed her grip. Surprisingly, she went over to Victor and put a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she's okay."

I followed her and sat beside my friend. "We will find her, Victor."

He stifled a sob into his hands. "My poor sweet Lizzie…please be all right my love."

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**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I hope to be updating at least every other week or so, maybe more depending when the inspiration bug bites.**

**Review! Tell me what you think!  
And thanks again for reading!  
**

**-Rean  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author note: Woot Woot, chapter two! This is a lot longer than the last chapter, and a lot happens, but I'm not going to spoil it for you!**

**Again, I claim no ownership of the characters that appeared in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, though I do claim rights to all original characters.  
**

**Okay, that in mind, I hope you enjoy this chapter at least as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
**

**Also, in some of the dialogue, you'll see "[...]" these brackets inside of quotations, that means there are speaking in French. I don't personally know French or anyone who does, so it'd be difficult and confusing for me to write in it. So, just go along with it, please.  
**

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Chapter 2

The journey back to the Frankenstein house was promising to be a long and unendurable affair. Victor's demeanor, which had been melancholic for the past year, was worsening and thus beginning to worry me. While I had expected him to be suffering at the loss of his beloved cousin, Miss Elizabeth Lavenza, I could not dismiss the feeling that he blamed himself for her mysterious disappearance.

I could not fathom why my friend would feel this way. In my mind, his only fault was being gone from his family all these years, but even that was due to his pursuit of higher education, which was a worthy cause in all our minds. He sat with his arms crossed and his gaze unfocused outside the window.

Miss Tori was also rather quiet, something of a surprise considering her penchant for conversation. Her gloved hands were placed gently on the lap of her modest crimson dress. Victor and I had tried to persuade her to wear something more fitting, but she had declined all our offers to pay for such a gown. I glanced sideways at her, taking in the gentle slope of her neck and the firm slant of her jaw. Her hair was once more pinned up off her neck and away from her tanned face, though a few stray curls managed to fall around her ears and eyes.

When we had first received the letter, I had not known Miss Tori was to accompany Frankenstein and I back home. I thought the project she had been working on was in town and that our acquaintance was merely one of convenience. She had needed a place to stay, and we needed someone to manage the needs of our apartment. To speak the truth, I had been relieved when her presence became a fixture in the past weeks. Being from a lower class family, I was not unfamiliar with cleaning and other chores, but that did not mean I enjoyed the burden. Victor, though my dear friend and vastly brilliant, had never lifted a finger in his life towards such household tasks. When I had first arrived, his apartment had been in such a dreadful state, one would hardly have known that a human being resided there. Clothes were strewn everywhere, papers thrown in heaps on the ground, and the accumulating grime had been only part of the filth that had amassed. I had tried to restore the apartment to some semblance of order, but taking care of Victor and starting my own studies had taken precedent. That period was when Victor's nightmares had first started.

But I digress, as this had taken place over a year in advance.

We reached the town of Augsberg on the first night and found a modest inn where we could rest and have a meal. Miss Tori had been asleep for most of the day's journey and seemed restless now that we had stopped. She left Victor and me in the room in favor of wandering the town's streets in the early evening air. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and strode out the door.

I turned to my friend once we were alone. He sat on the edge of one of the beds and was removing his boots.

"There's something strange about that girl," I thought aloud.

Victor mumbled something under his breath that sounded like he agreed with my sentiment.

"Victor, I didn't want to bring this up earlier, but why is she still with us?" I sat down next to him on the bed. He kept his eyes focused downward. "What further business does she have in your affairs? And what was her business with us in the first place? You have always been a generous and charitable man in my eyes, but that does not change the fact that she is still just an acquaintance at best. What does she hold over you?"

Victor finally looked up at me. "I do not wish to talk about her, Clerval. There is too much going on right now." He placed his boots beside the bed and stood up.

"Yes, there is a lot happening at the moment," I replied, growing frustrated, "That is why I need you to explain to me how she fits in to all of this. Whatever she was doing back in Ingolstadt had you worried. Don't think I didn't notice. What is her significance to you? A former lover?"

Victor spun around in a fury. I had never seen my friend's countenance so livid. "I would never." He paced back and forth. "You know as well as everyone in my family that my heart belongs only to Elizabeth. To suggest otherwise is an insult to my character and our friendship."

"Then allow me to fulfill my duties as your friend!" I got to my feet and placed a hand on his shoulder to halt his pacing. "Confide in me as you used to. I am your confidant in every way, Victor. You know I consider you my brother. That will never change, no matter what happens. No matter what you tell me."

Victor remained still. "You say that now, Henry. It is because I hold you close to my heart that I refrain from burdening you with my dark secret. I wish to keep you safe from the evil that I have loosed upon this world and upon myself."

I let my hand fall as Victor moved towards the door. I could not understand what he was talking about. My friend had always had a disposition for dramatics, but this was going too far. I decided it was best to shift the conversation back to my original inquiry. "How does Miss Aizen fit into all of this?"

"I…I am not certain at this point." His hand was on the doorknob now. He glanced back to me. "She seeks out what I am resolved to destroy, should I ever be given the chance. Her endeavors can only bring about destruction, but she is...hopeful of a different outcome." The door closed behind my friend, and I was left alone.

The next day of our journey carried on much in the same manner as the first, but the memory of my conversation with Frankenstein hung in the air of the carriage like a bad stench. My friend's unfocused gaze out the window had been traded in for a glare seemingly determined to treat me and Miss Aizen as though we were nonexistent. I tried not to let my friend's coldness affect me. Passivity had always been my greatest defense when dealing with Victor's sometimes difficult attitude. I decided to try and take this opportunity of close confinement to learn more about our mutual companion. I turned towards the woman sitting next to me.

"We've been acquaintances for some time now, Miss Aizen. I must confess you are still a mystery to me." I clasped my hands over my knees and leaned forward to get a better look at her face.

Her eyes seemed to widen, as if anxious, but her overall composure was rather neutral. "I thought most guys liked a girl shrouded in mystery." Her voice was low, but had a playful hint to it. I could tell she was trying to distract me from my purpose.

"If that is true, it is only because a gentleman's interest is piqued by what is unknown. The unlocking of such mysteries is what a man truly seeks."

Her brow lifted. "That's a shame then, because most ladies don't adopt a mysterious allure to hide deep secrets." She mirrored my posture and rested her chin against her closed fist.

"If not secrets, then what is a lady hiding?"

Her brown eyes held mine for a moment, and then she blinked and sat up straight. In a most unbecoming manner, she folded her hands behind her head and leaned back. With a grin she said, "How should I know? If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm not much of a lady."

She closed her eyes, effectively ending our conversation. I had the urge to point out to her that if she was indeed not a lady, how could she make _any_ claims on what they may or may not be hiding? But I decided against it. She wasn't a very logical debater, and yet somehow she worked that to her advantage.

I waited for her eyes to reopen, but they remained closed. Her arms shifted back to her lap after a while and her breathing became softer, an indication that she had dozed off to sleep. I was amazed that it happened so quickly.

The carriage was silent for quite a long while after that. Only the jostling of the bumpy country road and the sound of the creaking wheels reached my ears. I tried to get some sleep as well, but it was no use. I glanced across to Victor who also seemed unable to rest. He had barely moved the whole day.

I made sure that Miss Aizen was truly asleep and then turned my attention back to my friend. In a hushed voice I asked, "You know what she's hiding, do you not?"

At first I thought he had not heard me or if he had, was choosing to ignore me. But then he turned and his eyes met mine. "I know what she is looking for. That is all, Henry. I told you this last night."

I crossed my arms. "Oh yes, this _evil_ you have loosed upon the world. Honestly, Victor. I am not a child. You make it sound as if she is hunting down some monster."

Victor's face twitched before he suddenly turned back towards the window.

I did not believe what the implications of his response meant. I leaned forward and grasped my friend's knee. "Surely that is not possible. Monsters—those exist only in stories and myths. Perhaps this whole thing is just an illusion or hallucination, born out of your nightmares."

"Oh, poor Henry," Victor shook his head sadly, "If only the words you speak could be true. The appearance of this abomination was not borne out of nightmares, but rather the reverse. My nightmares stem from that horrible night when that product of perverse creativity was given life through my hands. I was blinded by my own feverish obsessions for grandeur. Nothing can absolve me now except the destruction of my own corrupt labors."

I thought for a moment. "If what you say is true, why would Miss Aizen seek out such a creature?"

"Because Miss Aizen believes something else about the creature." Both Victor and I looked to the now conscious woman. She cleared her throat and flicked a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "I guess I don't have to _hide_ anything from you anymore, Henry, since Victor has come out and said as much." Her face did not hold the vague anxieties it had before. She shifted her body so she could direct her address at me. "Let me give you a brief summary of our situation. You know that Victor left for the University at Ingolstadt roughly five years ago. He was studying the natural sciences…" Victor shuttered at the latter words. "…After two years he began work on a project—essentially, giving life to what was already dead. A year later in November his obsession came to a finish and a body created from the tissue and organs of dead corpses was brought to life. Unfortunately, our resident genius was not prepared for the shock he was given when, surprise surprise, he found that a patchwork body did not make for a very beautiful creature. So he abandoned it and ran away. You showed up the next day, just in time to find him on the brink of collapse from physical and mental exhaustion." Miss Tori ended her lecture and settled back into her seat.

I looked to my friend. There was no denial of her story on his face, just a blatant look of guilt and horror.

I turned back to the girl. "So, in town, you were searching for the monster? What kinds of havoc has the fiend been committing?"

She glared at me, clearly annoyed. "He hasn't done anything wrong. And he isn't a monster. At least not yet."

"But he will become one?"

"Yeah, if I don't find him."

Victor stirred from his reverie. "And how do you know that? What can you do, exactly, Miss Aizen? What miraculous power will you use to defeat him?" His mocking tone was sharp, but I could tell that a part of my friend really did want to know what the girl had to offer.

She looked downward and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm not aiming to defeat him. I couldn't hurt or kill him if I tried—just as you can't."

"And how do you know that?" Victor's face had turned a deep red in his anger. His fists were clenched to the point where the skin around his knuckles was turning white. I started when he slammed a fist against the wall of the carriage. Miss Aizen remained still in her own stubborn resolve. Victor went on. "How do you know any of this? I have never met or seen you in my life and yet you seem to know so much about me. How do you even know that that abomination is still breathing? My experiment could have failed after a certain time. That thing could be lying dead in the middle of a ravine or forest. There has been no sign of him until…" His voice trailed off.

The carriage had stopped, though we were not near any towns. Victor and the girl noticed as well. I could see in their eyes that they both wished to carry on their argument, but fortunately decided against it. I got out of the vehicle to ask the driver if something was wrong, only to find that he was unhitching the horse.

"[Monsieur, what are you doing?]"

The man turned around with a frightened expression on his face and a pistol in his shaking hand. I held my palms up to show I meant no harm.

"[Do not come any closer or I will shoot you.]" He aimed the gun at me. I remained still. "[I do not wish to harm you or your companions, Monsieur Clerval, but I will not have dealings with those who mess about in dark practices. Please, just let me leave.]"

"What's going on, Henry?" It was the girl's voice. I forgot that she did not understand French. And I had failed to acknowledge the possibility that our driver would over hear our conversation—or understand English, for that matter. She stuck her head out the window before I could stop her and the driver turned the pistol on her. She flinched back in surprise. "Shit! Are we being robbed?"

"No, that is the driver. Just stay where you are." I tried to regain my composure, but I felt as if my legs were about to crumple. I took a breath and spoke once more. "[If you wish to leave, we will not hinder you. I gather you heard everything we spoke of. If that is so, you will know that we are not trying to bring about catastrophe, but rather find a way to avoid it.]"

The man did not withdraw his pistol. "[Even if that is true, you have said you seek a monster. In my experience, those who have dealings with monsters do not need to seek one out. The monsters will always find them.]" He finally put his sidearm away and performed a hasty sign of the cross before mounting the horse and riding off.

The girl tentatively got out of the carriage, followed by Victor. My friend laid a hand on my arm. "Are you all right, Henry?"

"I am fine, Victor. But I am afraid our troubles are not at an end." We both looked after the ever-retreating form of the driver riding on the horse. "He will most likely inform the next town of what he has heard. That won't bode well if we decide to stay the night or attempt to rent another carriage."

Miss Aizen climbed into the driver's seat and started throwing down our luggage from the top of the vehicle.

Victor shot an irritated glance in her direction. "What in God's name are you doing now, Miss Aizen?"

She hopped down and began going through her own suitcase, pulling out a cotton nightdress and laying it across the ground. She placed one folded dress, a couple pairs of knickers and stockings, and a small paper-bound book on top of it and proceeded to tie the ends of the nightdress to create a makeshift satchel. "Well, there's no way I'm lugging that thing all day." She reached once more into the suitcase and pulled out a strange pistol and a small bag of bullets along with a horn of what I assumed was gunpowder. "Besides, if we run into to trouble we should be prepared to act fast and get the hell out of Dodge. The less things we carry, the better chance we'll have."

Victor and I watched, somewhat perturbed, as she loaded the firearm. "What kind of gun is that, Miss Aizen?" I asked. Even to mine own ears my voice sounded shaken.

The girl smiled, a gesture that did nothing to comfort my nerves. "I think it's called a pepperbox, or something. It shoots multiple rounds so it's a lot more useful than a single-shot." She concealed the pistol in the folds of her skirt before bending down to retrieve another item from her luggage. This time it was a rather intimidating knife. She stowed it in her boot.

"Clearly I am not one to judge," started Victor, running a hand through his hair in exasperation, "But what kind of girl would carry such armaments?"

The girl straightened. "The kind that's not going to be raped or messed with in a male-dominated chauvinist-pig society." She grabbed her bundle and went to lean against the carriage.

Victor and I finally relented and made similar packs from our own belongings. When we had finished, we continued once more one our journey.

We reached town well after nightfall. We were exhausted, dirty, and famished beyond reason. We decided to find an inn on the outskirts, hoping that if the driver had talked, his rumors would stay in the center of the town. We rented a small room with two beds and a couch. Victor even paid extra for them to run up a bath for each of us.

When we had finished our personal ablutions, I elected to sleep on the couch. My companions were so tired they merely flopped into their own beds immediately. Sleep fell on each of us within minutes. For me it was not a restful sleep. Images of demons and monsters plagued my dreams, lurking in the shadows and never showing their faces. All I could really see were their eyes, red and glowing. Then the nightmare would shift, and I fell from the darkness and landed in light.

And she was there. Her short hair ruffled in an ethereal breeze that sent chills down my spine. She turned and smiled at me, warm and glowing. She lifted an arm, as if to reach out to me. I tried to lift my hand to grasp hers, but I could not move. I felt panic rise in my blood and when I looked to the girl again, she was not alone. There was a shadow over her now, making her seem small in comparison and even brighter. In her hand she held the pistol from before.

The edge of her lips curled upwards, into an amused grin.

Her finger played at the trigger.

The shadow began to wrap itself around her.

With a final smirk, she squeezed the trigger and there was a deafening boom.

And that's when I awoke to screaming.

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**Sorry for the cliff hanger! Still I hope that you enjoyed it! Reviews and ratings are welcomed! **

**Thanks for reading!  
**

**-Rean  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there, everyone! Two posts in two days, I'm on a role! Anyway, at the moment it is 5:38 in the morning and I need some sleep, but I really wanted to post this for my roaring crowd of followers (I think I'm up to two, now). If there are spelling or grammar errors, I'll check them later, but for now, just let me happy in my accomplishment.**

**Also, be warned there is violence in this chapter! Let me earn that "T" rating now!  
**

**Enjoy!  
**

*******Edit: Okay, so I went through and fixed all the mistakes I could find, but who knows, there can be more. But hopefully not.  
**

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Chapter 3

The room was dark, but I could see shapes struggling over by Miss Aizen's bed. She gave off another muffled scream. I stumbled to my feet and tried to rush to her aid. I pulled one man off of her and pushed him to the ground. Back on the bed, I heard more grunts and a violent thump. I saw another shape drop to the floor which left one more standing over the bed. A sudden flash and the sound of a metallic click made everyone freeze.

"Nobody move." The voice was low, but I recognized it at once as Miss Aizen's. I saw her shadow stand up next to the bed. One hand outreached, pointing the pistol straight into her assailant's side, she used her free hand to light the candle next to her bed. In the dim light I could see that her gun was pressed against a rather large man's ribcage. There were two other men, one knocked out at her feet and the one I had thrown to the ground. Victor lay on his bed motionless. I noticed a dark swell on his forehead and trickle of blood leaking from it.

"Turn around." The man did as she said. As soon as he was facing the door she slammed the butt of the pistol down on his head and he dropped to the floor unconscious. The man at my feet tried to crawl away. She saw the movement and cocked the pistol once more. "Don't make me shoot, you idiot." He froze, but I could see that he was shaking. I would be too, if I were in her position.

She stepped around her bed to stand by Victor. She pressed two fingers to his neck and let out a sigh of relief. "Henry, get that bowl of water and a towel and see if you can clean him." I nodded and hurried to the task.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as she walked over to the man on the floor. Her expression was like stone, her dangerous eyes shining obsidian. She crouched next to his head and held the gun at her side. "Why did you attack us?"

The man mumbled and whimpered. She pushed him over so she could see his face.

"Look, I just want to know why you wanted to hurt us, specifically me. You hit Victor over the head and then left him alone. Me, you tried to strangle. And you didn't even know Henry was here until he pulled you off of me. What did you want with me?"

I slowly wiped away the blood from my friend's face, and tried to revive him. He murmured as I worked, but I could not make out what his word were.

"Come on, answer me!" I looked over and saw her grab the front of the man's shirt and pull him up.

The man yelled out a string of words.

"SPEAK ENGLISH, DAMMIT."

The man threw his arms over his head. She let go of his shirt and got to her feet.

I set the bowl of water on the bedside table and handed her the bloodied towel. "Perhaps you should revive Victor. Let me try questioning our…guest."

She nodded and tried to hand me her pistol. I shook my head in refusal. She merely shrugged and went to kneel beside our injured companion. Our uninvited guest was calmer as I approached, but still visibly nervous.

"[What do you intend to do with me, Monsieur?]" he stammered out in French, "[My comrades and I only wished to remove the witch, I swear!]"

"[The lady is not a witch, my friend.]" I glanced back, wondering at the truth of my own words. "[Granted she is strange, but she has committed no evil and has performed no magic of any kind. I do not know how you came to your misguided conclusion.]"

The man gulped and sat up. Perspiration had soaked his face and was beginning to saturate the grey cloth of his tunic. "[A man came into to town earlier today, saying he had just fled from three travelers discussing a monster. He said among them was a woman who sought out the monster. Only a witch in consort to Satan would willingly seek out the company of a monster.]"

"[Is that really your only argument against her? How did you figure that she was the woman this man spoke of?]"

The man shook his head. "[Our informant had been very descriptive in his talk of the girl. We recognized her as soon as you walked into our town. We believed this man's story, for, you see, this entire day there have been sightings of a demon lurking in the shadows, hiding in the cover of the forest. Surely it is the demon summoned by this woman.]"

I sighed. "[But we have only been here this night. If this were truly some dark magic of hers, which I promise you it is not, then how would a summoned demon arrive before her?]"

The man looked as if he was starting to doubt his own reasoning. "[To herald her coming?]"

"[My good sir, you and your comrades have made a grave mistake. If you must know, my friends and I were having a deep discussion of literature, in relation to what constitutes true fear. We were discussing the concept of such a monster when the driver misheard us and left. That is all.]" I got to my feet and held a hand out to help him up as well.

"[If that is so, how do you explain the sightings of that demon?]"

"[Well, first off, who are the witnesses to his appearance? Did they see a definite shape? It could have been a trick of the sun and shadows. Hallucinations conjured up in reaction to this man's story.]" I put an arm around his shoulder and started leading him to the door. "[Tell me, have you been drinking on this evening?]"

A guilty look flashed across his face. "[If all you say is true, then how is it that she is capable of besting two formidable men?]" The same questioned had crossed my mind.

"[She is an American.]" I figured that would also suffice to explain both her lack of social graces and her language.

The man nodded.

"[Now. We must figure out what is to be done next.]" I turned him so he could see my friend still unconscious on the bed and the girl attending to his wound. She had torn a long strip of cloth from her already ripped up night gown and was tying it around Victor's head to cover the small gash on his temple. "[You see that man? His name is Victor Frankenstein. His father is a highly respected Syndic in the Geneva court.]" The man's eyes widened and he once again shook with nervousness. "[If you can procure a ride for me and my companions, I am sure there would be no need to inform his father of this misunderstanding.]"

"[Of course, Monsieur.]" He looked briefly at his fallen comrades. "[When do you plan on leaving?]"

"[Immediately.]"

He nodded and left. The girl looked up as he went. "So what's happening now?"

"He went to retrieve a new carriage for us. I figure it best that we leave as soon as possible." I took a seat on the edge of Frankenstein's bed. "They were convinced you were a witch. Our previous driver had apparently been telling anyone who cared to listen to his story."

For the first time I took in the full extent of damage done to Miss Aizen. Her night dress had been torn from the middle of the collar down to just below her chest, revealing a rather copious amount of bare skin. There were other rips in the side, bruises along her arms and legs and a scratch just below her ear. Her neck also had dark impressions where one of the men had tried to strangle her. She pushed her hair out of her face and looked at me. The stony façade she had worn earlier was gone, replaced now with a wearied relief. "I suppose that answers why they only wanted to kill me. Thank god for self-defense classes."

"Self-defense classes?" I had never heard of such a thing.

"Uh…nevermind. Let's just focus on getting Victor to wake up." She turned her attention back to my friend and continued gently fanning his face.

A knock at the door drew our attention away. Miss Aizen hid her gun and I went to answer the knock. Two constables stepped in and tipped their hats to us. Behind them was a doctor, who had come to check on Victor. Apparently we had left a stronger impression on the young man than I had first thought. The officers collected the unconscious men and dragged them away. I assured them I was not planning to press charges and that the whole debacle had been a vast misunderstanding. They bid us goodnight and left the doctor to finish his business.

The physician declared Victor's wounds merely superficial and commended Miss Aizen on her makeshift bandage. He applied a new dressing and then took out a vial of smelling salts from his bag to revive Victor.

My friend awoke and immediately tried to sit up. The doctor and Miss Aizen persuaded him to stay down for the moment. With my friend taken care of, the doctor turned to take a look at the girl's wounds. He cleaned up the scratches along her arm and the one underneath her ear and applied a salve that was supposed to help heal her bruises. Finished, he packed up his medical supplies and headed for the door. I tried to pay him, but he assured me that the man who had called on him had already paid his fee. We thanked him and he was gone.

Miss Aizen gathered up her extra clothes and went to the bathroom to change. I went back to Victor's bed and took a seat beside to explain what had happened. When I had finished speaking he seemed very thoughtful.

"[A witch…I suppose she could be a witch.]" He spoke in French, so as to make sure our conversation was private from the girl. My friend sounded almost whimsical in his musing. "[Perhaps she is some kind of clairvoyant. It would explain how she knows so much.]"

I smiled at my friend. "[Victor Frankenstein, I never thought I would live to see a day when you would acknowledge magic over science.]"

He frowned at my quip, but did not really seem annoyed by it. Miss Aizen returned from the bathroom, looking fresh and clean. Her hair was not pinned up like she normally wore it. Her wild curls fell about her face like a lion's mane. She was now wearing a low-cut dark navy colored dress that fit her more tightly than the others she had worn. It hugged her hips and pushed up her bosom in an alarmingly distracting way. She caught my gaze and frowned, then wrapped a shawl over her shoulders to conceal her exposed neckline. She threw her repacked bundle on her bed and retrieved the gun and knife from where she had been hiding it and replaced them back on her person. I helped Victor out of bed and we packed our own minor belongings.

It was not long after that the young man returned with our carriage. He was cordial enough towards Victor and myself, but I could tell he was still unsure of Miss Aizen. Tori, for her credit, smiled as innocently and warmly as possible—which only served to cause the man more unease. We filed into the chaise with our small parcels. The young man even handed me a pack of food, consisting of bread, cheese and some dried salted meat. I thanked him and we were on our way once more.

Other than the lantern carried by the driver, there was no real source of light. It was still hours before dawn and the darkness was infinitely thicker once we were on the open road. Though I could not see very well, I could tell that Victor was apprehensive. I had informed him of what the young man had said about different sightings of a large shadowed form lurking in the town and woods throughout the day.

We were silent, still tired from the day before and the excitement of the night. Despite this, I could not regain sleep as both Victor and Miss Aizen did so quickly. I could hear my friend's subtle snores and the girl's soft breathing under the creaking of the swaying carriage. One of the wheels hit a dip and the whole cart tilted. The sudden motion caused Miss Aizen to fall lightly against me. As the coach leveled out, she remained leaning against my arm, apparently finding it a more suitable pillow than the wall of the cab. She sighed contentedly in the darkness, and in my mind I could see her lips curling into an unconscious smile.

As I sat there, not daring to move lest I disturb her slumbering form, I began to think. Memories of the dream I had earlier flashed back through my mind. The image of the girl, standing in light, then being shrouded in darkness—I could not think what the vision had meant, if it had any meaning at all.

Gradually my mind grew quieter. My head felt heavier and I had the distinct thought that it would be exceedingly comfortable to let it rest against my unconscious companion. Her hair still smelled of the lavender soap from the earlier bath, and it felt soft against my cheek.

My eyelids closed and oblivion overtook me. I dreamt no dreams. It was the first restful sleep I had gained on that trip. And I was thankful for it.

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**Again, sorry for any errors! And as always, thanks so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying the story! Please review and let me know what you think.**

**-Rean  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Okay, so here it is, Chapter 4! woot woot! Hopefully my updates will remain relatively steady like this. **

**Anyway, enjoy the reading!**

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Chapter 4

A small cough emanated from my friend sitting across from me. I opened my eyes to find that I had shifted in the night. My head rested against the wall of the carriage, while Miss Aizen's head had fallen lower against my torso. Somehow during the night my arm had wrapped itself around her shoulders. I lifted my arm but did not see how I could move otherwise, lest I wake the sleeping woman and have her become aware of our compromising positions. I looked to Victor for assistance, but to my dismay he merely glared at me with a sort of vague amusement.

Being as cautious as possible, I tried to gauge my adjustment to when the carriage would go over a dip in the road which would cause it to jostle slightly. The cart hit a hole and I quickly moved Miss Aizen so her head was against the opposite wall. Her eyelids fluttered open as I turned to face outside, but still peering sideways at her.

She rubbed her eyes and then blinked at Victor and me. The action made me reminiscent of a child, and I had to fight down the ever-rising fact that I found Miss Aizen dreadfully endearing. I also had to remind myself that this same woman had violently and effectively subdued two grown men trying to kill her just a few hours before.

The girl bit off a yawn and sat up straight. "What time is it?" she asked as she peaked out the curtain of the cart door. She immediately closed it, wincing at the bright light of day, and continued massaging her eyes.

Victor took out his pocket watch. "Just before noon. Did you sleep well?" A bemused grin played at the corners of his mouth.

Miss Aizen reached her hands above her head and began to stretch. "Yeah, I guess. I'm a little stiff though." I tried not to stare as she arched her back and let out a deep sigh. After she put her hands down, she turned to me and smiled.

The next few days were uneventful for the most part. We kept our conversation to a minimum and did not speak of Frankenstein's creature anymore. Victor seemed content on this matter and took to spending the long days staring out the carriage window. Miss Aizen and I took to discussing literature. I was impressed by her knowledge and insight of many of the classics that I had read at the University, but when I questioned her on her favorites she seemed reluctant to answer. After many inquiries on my part as to whom her favorite author was, she hesitantly answered _Edgar Allen Poe_.

"I have never heard of that writer before," I answered, "What are his works?"

She seemed to pale, but continued. "I guess his most famous was…is called _The Raven._ It's a poem about a guy who gets all freaked out and goes crazy over this raven that flies into his room and starts talking to him."

"That sounds…fascinating." I watched her smile. My heart seemed to jump for a moment. I then noticed her pack lying next to her on the seat and remembered that she had taken a book out of her suitcase when we left the rest of our luggage behind. I asked her what it was.

"It's nothing," she said quickly.

"May I take a look at it?" I asked, hoping it might be some sort of novel.

She shook her head. "Sorry, it's kind of private. So, no." She moved her bundle so it was out of sight. After taking a deep breath she turned to me and changed the topic to that of what I had been studying at the University.

The subject of books came up a few more times after that, but she was always wary to keep from talking about her own preferences unless I offered one of my own that she agreed with.

The last day of our journey was rather miserable due to a constant downpour of rain from the morning into the late afternoon along with lightning and thunder storms. The sound shook the carriage the closer we got to home, and a ride that should have taken only a quarter of the day was dragging into the evening because the driver insisted on stopping whenever the rainfall became too heavy.

Night was on the verge of descent, and we only had a few kilometers left to go as we passed through the main part of town and headed towards the outskirts of the city where the houses were spread farther apart.

It was about half an hour later that a bolt of lightning from the skies tore across our path and struck a large tree. The noise was terrible, like the sound of an avalanche roaring down a mountain. The trunk split and burst into flames and a large branch began to break off right above us.

The driver was trying to urge the horses forward, out of the path of the branch's imminent fall, but they were petrified and could not jointly move forward or reverse in their confusion.

With a quick look to Victor, I ushered Miss Aizen out of the chaise while Victor went to help the driver. Through the lashing rain and twilit darkness, navigation would have been difficult if the large tree had not become a roaring bonfire.

I heard a crack from above and saw that the branch was almost at its limit and would not hold out very soon. It was also on fire and was dropping burning bits of tree bark. I yelled for Victor and the driver to get out of there. Even if the branch did not fall, the fire from the tree was drawing dangerously close to the carriage. He and the driver were currently trying to unhitch the two horses from the cart, but in the animals' alarmed state they were kicking and jumping. The two men had to be careful not to be caught by such a fatal blow.

I looked back at Miss Aizen who was staring in awe at the fire. Suddenly the glint in her eyes changed, and she started looking around herself. "Dammit!" She looked back at the carriage in horror and began to move towards it.

I grabbed her arm to stop her. "What are you doing?" She struggled against my grip, so I held on to both of her shoulders. "That tree could come down at any moment!"

"Yeah, I know," she said trying to pull away.

I had no idea what was so important, other than possibly her book, but I wasn't given much time to think about it. A square blow from her elbow hit me in the middle of the chest and I was forced to release her.

She ran straight into the open door of the carriage, just as another loud groan sounded from the branches above. The rain was doing nothing to settle the flames.

The driver and Victor had succeeded in disconnecting the horses and they were running towards me with the frightened, but controlled animals. Without waiting for them, I took off towards the carriage, slipping in the wet dirt after the foolish girl, but before I could get all the way there, the massive branch from above finally gave and careened downwards. Miss Aizen already had her head out the door. She looked up long enough to see the burning mass falling towards her and then dove out of the carriage. She slid a little ways and scrambled to get out of the reach of the imminent disaster. Without thinking I sprinted and flung myself on top of her just as the branch crashed down. It flung splinters of wood and bits of embers all around. I tucked my head in against the back of her damp form and hoped that nothing too large would hit us.

When the debris had settled I felt her relax. I pushed myself up and gently helped her to her feet. Her dress was ruined and her bundle had come apart in the chaos. Most of her things were in a heap on the ground. Her book was next to my feet so I bent down and picked it up. She was busy collecting everything else.

"I hope this isn't what you risked your life to save, Miss Aizen." I held the book up in one hand. She breathed in sharply and quickly snatched it away. Before she did though, I caught a glimpse of the cover and found the name printed on it very familiar. Our eyes met and I could tell she knew I had seen it.

"Don't say anything. It's nothing you need to be concerned with." She shook it to rid it of mud and then stowed it in her hastily put together pack. Then she pulled out two other items—the bag of bullets and gunpowder. "If this had exploded, it could have launched these bullets a few hundred yards in every direction. It wouldn't have mattered if were far away from the fire; it still could have killed or at the very least seriously injured any of us."

I nodded, still confused by the cover of the book.

She was about to move away, but hesitated. "By the way, thanks…for trying to protect me, that is. And sorry for elbowing you in the stomach." Once again, she moved quickly, though this time it was to kiss me lightly on the cheek. All I could think at that moment was that her lips were incredibly soft. She half smiled at me and then walked over to Victor and the driver who were still trying to calm the horses, but had been watching the entire scene out of the corner of their eyes.

Frankenstein's house was not far now, and the rain was beginning to lessen as night came fully on. Fortunately we were able to make it to the home before night completely fell. When we were finally ushered inside, Frankenstein's father and brothers could not have looked more relieved. We described what had happened to our carriage and they agreed to make up a guest room for our stranded driver.

M. Frankenstein then treated Miss Aizen to a welcoming, yet wary gaze. He offered her his hand. "[And who might you be, dear?]"

Miss Aizen seemed to go blank. Victor stepped forward before she could speak. "[This is Miss Tori Aizen, father. Unfortunately, she does not speak French.]" He went on to explain how she had become something of a live-in housekeeper to Victor and me in the last month we were at University, and that if we were to leave her, than she would have been out on the streets.

After the night of the attack, I had explained to her how I had claimed she was from America to the last standing assailant. She had laughed and assured me that my quick thinking had not made me a liar and that she did, indeed, hail from the continent across the sea.

His father seemed to relax as Victor continued our story of the journey back home, leaving out some of the more incriminating details, but giving enough to paint the general portrait of a girl who was in need and had no romantic interests in the man's eldest son.

During this time I stood next to Miss Aizen and whispered a rough translation of everything my friend dictated. She nodded and on more than one instance had to withhold a laugh, specifically when it came to Victor's account of the attack on her. He decidedly left out the fact that she had a gun and claimed there were only two men in the room—one subdued by a blow from her and the other pulled off by me before being enlightened. Victor also left out Miss Aizen's actions from the carriage fire, and claimed that her dress had become so stained from a fall in the mud. M. Frankenstein was a man of peace and sensitivity, and though Victor did not wish to lie to his father, I had to agree with his decision to tone down the severity of these situations for his health's sake.

When Victor had finished speaking on Miss Aizen's behalf, M. Frankenstein seemed to look at her with a newfound sense of respect and warmth, and shook her hand fervently. Then he called for the servants to come and help the four of us wash and dress into dry, clean clothes. Justine Moritz was among them and took charge of the girl. As she led the way up the East wing stairwell, Miss Aizen looked back once more, meeting my eyes, and mouthed the words, "Good night," then she turned and followed Miss Moritz.

I stood in the foyer, gazing after them despite the fact that they were gone. The rest of the family was heading back to their chambers as well. Victor gently put an arm around my shoulders and began escorting me away. "Come, my friend." He sounded tired, but once again had a hint of mirth in his voice. "You will have plenty of time to gape at Miss Aizen in the morning."

I nodded and followed my friend down the darkened hallway.

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**So I hope you liked this chapter, not too eventful, but hey, at least we're somewhere new! **

******While I love writing this in Henry's point-of-view, I'm thinking I might make short inserts or oneshots with other characters such as Tori or the Creature (which will be showing up in the next chapter). If I do make them separate from this story, I'll make sure to mention them here since they will still be apart of the same plot-line.**

******Anyway, I hope that you liked it and will review so that I am given the attention I crave from random internet people!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, chapter 5 is done! Enjoy!**

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Chapter 5

The next morning at breakfast it was decided that Miss Aizen should stay on in the Frankenstein household as a servant. I could tell she was uncomfortable with the title, but accepted the position with appreciation. Miss Moritz took her under her wing, and helped her get used to the ins and outs of managing the house. In Elizabeth's absence, the responsibility had fallen on her, and though I noted a certain sadness about her, she seemed to have managed well enough. Justine was not like many servants, as she was intelligent and had been educated by the Frankensteins in her youth. She was more like a sister to Elizabeth and Victor and had always been a good friend to me. She too, knew how to speak English rather well, so began teaching Miss Aizen the basics of French.

Victor and I began our own investigation into Miss Elizabeth's disappearance. A search party had formed as soon as it was found she was missing, but after a month of no leads and having gone as far as the city of Berne in the north and Grenoble in the south, there was simply no trace of her presence anywhere. We questioned people in and on the outskirts of town and any traveling merchants who happened to pass through as well. All of them claimed to have never seen her pass their way.

After two weeks of this, Victor was at his wit's end and it was beginning to weigh heavily on the rest of the family. I decided to confront him in his study where he had a large map of the country and its adjoining nations rolled out over a table. There were marks and pins dotting most of the areas around Geneva. Other notes and papers were scattered around the room. My friend sat in a large wooden chair at his desk in the corner. A gas lamp was burning dimly in the dark room, casting a flickering shadow that only served to emphasize the anguish my friend was going through.

"Victor," I called quietly, "You should get some rest, my friend."

He slowly sat up and took his pocket watch out. I didn't need a clock to know it was well after midnight. He set the open timepiece on his desk. "What am I to do, Clerval? Elizabeth has been missing for almost two months now, with no indication to where she could have gone. She could be anywhere by now."

I walked farther into the room and put a hand on my friend's shoulder. He looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. His hair was long and greasier than normal from lack of washing and his cheeks seemed hollowed, a sign that despite my constant reminders he still managed to miss many of his meals.

"I think you should give yourself a couple days of rest."

He turned on me, almost violently with a look of horrified rage. "How the devil can I relax when Elizabeth is gone? She could be in danger or even…" He stammered and clenched his fists, crushing the few papers in his grasp. "For god's sake, they haven't even found her body!" He crumpled back into his chair.

I moved towards him again, but stopped short. "Victor, I do not mean we give up. But clearly you've noticed how this obsessive searching is…"

He was back on his feet, quick as lightning, and had grabbed hold of the front of my shirt. "_Obsessive?_" His eyes were wild and I noticed for the first time that he was sweating. "It's that damned monster! He plagues me in my dreams and now he plagues me in real life!"

I did a quick survey of the doorway to make sure we were alone.

"Victor, please," I implored, trying to lead him away from the desk and maps to sit on the couch near the hearth. "What if we went on a trip of our own? Circled to all the towns relative to Geneva? Perhaps the search party missed someone who might have seen her."

Victor had finally calmed down, but after a quick check of his forehead I could tell that he had a fever coming on—not as bad as the one he had at University, but it could still develop into something serious.

"We can discuss the details later, but you need to rest. Your ability to focus on one thing and abandon all else has not been very reassuring to your family, or your health for that matter." I helped him back to his feet and began to escort him to his room. "You will take the next few days to recuperate and then we will leave to conduct our search for your cousin."

His eyes rolled hopelessly towards me.

I tried to offer him a heartening smile. "Believe me, Miss Lavenza would not exactly be joyful to find you in a state of ill-health. I can imagine she'd scold _me_ for the lack of attention to your well-being."

We made it to his room and I put him to bed. He passed into sleep almost immediately. I got a damp cloth to cool his head and then went to alert the maids of his fever. Then I went to get some rest of my own.

Before I could make it to the room the Frankensteins had kept for me since I was a child, I found myself in the presence of Miss Aizen.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur Clerval," she said with a slight grin. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and leaned against the wall. I had to smile at her bold mannerisms; they were so different from any woman I had ever met. "How's Victor doing? I haven't been able to check up on him since I got here. I think everyone's still afraid I'll seduce him or something. Justine's been keeping me so busy between French lessons and chores I'm going a little crazy. It doesn't help that she's also been giving me lessons on proper etiquette, either."

I had to smirk at the slight pout on her lips. "Apparently they haven't been very affective."

Her grin widened before she suddenly straightened up into a perfect posture and laid her hands demurely on the front of her dress. Executing a flawless curtsy, she lowered her head and said, "Do forgive my inelegant behavior, _Master_ Clerval. If there is anything you desire, you need but ask it of me." Slowly she stood once more in posture, before letting the docile look slide from her face only to be replaced by a triumphant laugh.

I quietly applauded her performance. "Very convincing, Miss Aizen. I almost believed you were an actual lady for a moment."

She leaned once more against the side of the hallway. In the dim lighting I could almost make out a red tinge about her cheeks. "Yeah, well, don't let Justine know or else she'll start expecting it of me. Right now she just has me cleaning and watching the boys." Her face turned somber. "But all joking aside, how is Victor? I know he hasn't gotten much sleep or eaten very much. He works to the point of collapse and then keeps on going. He's going to have a nervous breakdown."

I stuck my hands in my pockets. "He has a fever. I'm going to make sure he stays in bed the next couple days. Then, I believe, we are going to leave on a trip."

The girl looked up in surprise. "A trip? What for?"

I sighed. "This type of behavior is normal for Victor and, while in the past it was put mostly towards less significant pursuits, this time it is affecting the entire household. You haven't been here very long, so you may not have noticed, but Victor's focus is so absolute he neglects the things and people around him that also require his attention. Ernest and William have their older brother once more, and yet they have no opportunities to spend time with him. M. Frankenstein has his son back, and yet is even more concerned for him than when he was away in Ingolstadt." I looked back down the hallway to where the stairs led to my friend's room. "He needs to get out of this place for a while. Clear his head and let the rest of the family have some relief from the depression that hangs over him."

"How long will you be gone?" Her voice was low, and had a slight shiver to it, as if she were uncertain about something.

"I do not know. Perhaps a few weeks. Possibly longer." I searched her face for a clue to her feelings.

She frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea right now. Maybe wait awhile."

"Why do you say that?"

She shrugged. "I feel like something's going to happen, you know? Like whatever it is will happen soon." She stepped forward and looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Look, I know it sounds stupid, but put off this trip. At least until I say so."

I tried not to meet her gaze, but looked down at the floor. "Miss Aizen, even if you were willing to admit to being some sort of clairvoyant," I kept my voice to a low whisper, "I don't know if I'd believe you. Unless you could give me definitive proof that some tragedy was going to occur, I will keep with our present plans." I made to leave for my own chambers, but she grabbed my shoulder and pulled me around to face her.

Her eyes glinted strangely, as if she were trying to persuade and intimidate just by staring me down. "Henry, I know you're a nice guy and you just want what's best for this family. That's why I'm telling _you_ this." She took a deep breath. "Victor's creature is going to show up, and if things go the way I think, it's not going to be pretty."

I searched her face for any sign that she could be lying or playing some sort of cruel joke. There was none. "When is he coming?"

Her eyes dropped. "I don't know."

"Then how can you know he's coming at all?"

She scowled, this being the first time I had ever incurred her frustration. "I just know." Her face twisted in a last effort to implore me to concede. "Please, Henry. Just trust me on this."

I imagined what would happen if I agreed to delay my and Victor's journey. The distress I saw on her face would be replaced by relief and possibly even warmth. We were so close, perhaps she would embrace me. I would be allowed to revel in the small gesture of intimacy and happiness.

But I could not. "Victor needs to get away from here. And he needs to do it soon. His family needs some peace as well." I removed her hand from where it was beginning to wrinkle my shirt and started walking away. Once more I stopped short of my door and looked back at the girl, hugging her arms around herself insecurely. "Do you think this creature has something to do with Elizabeth's disappearance?"

Miss Aizen stared at me for a moment, but remained silent, her face communicating the hurt she was feeling. Then she turned away and walked in the opposite direction, probably back to her room in the servant's quarters.

I watched her go until she was out of sight. Then I finally retreated to my own room where I barely had the will to remove my boots before falling into bed—Miss Aizen's sad eyes still flashing across my mind.

Victor slept till early evening the next day, and had woken up ravenous. His hearty appetite and the end of his short-lived fever served to brighten the household considerably—all except Miss Aizen, that is. She could hide her discomfort in front of the others, even going so far as being cheerful with the boys, but towards me she was blatantly cold and distant.

Victor and I began charting our route for the trip, which seemed to bring new life to him in some ways. He was still fixating on the search for Elizabeth, but with this new plan and a chance to be actively and physically searching, there was a sense of rejuvenation about him. After a couple more days of steady rest, hearty meals and in-depth planning, he claimed we were ready to set out.

Miss Aizen had during this time become more attached to both Justine and the youngest of the Frankenstein sons. It was clear as day that both of the boys found her to be a more than suitable companion, especially since she was not adverse to their rough-and-tumble games as the other maids were. There was something about here expression though, when she thought no one else was looking, that held a severe anxiety. I did not know what to make of it, so I put it temporarily out of my mind.

It was the day of our departure and Victor was impatient to be off. We stood at the door with his father while two servants loaded the rest of our bags on the chaise. His father was the only one there to see us off. Justine and Miss Aizen had taken Ernest and William to a park the boys had grown fond of frequenting. I felt this was for the best, as it avoided any lengthy goodbyes or any possible scenes of protest from Miss Aizen.

We bid farewell to M. Frankenstein and set off on our way.

Before we could even make it out of the courtyard, Ernest came riding past on a horse looking like he had a demon on his heels. He alighted next to his father. Victor and I scrambled out and ran up to where the boy, or rather young man, was frantically yelling something to his father. I felt the inside of my body twist. It could not be.

"It's William, Father! He's been hurt," the boy's voice was high and cracking. He dismounted the horse and looked to Victor and me. "He says a monster grabbed him and that Miss Tori saved him before he fainted."

M. Frankenstein seemed to grow a decade older at this terrible new development. He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Where is he now? Still at the park?"

The boy shook his head. "No, the driver is bringing him and Miss Justine back here. I thought it would be better for me to ride here before them so you were prepared." His gaze lowered.

"Where is Miss Aizen?" M. Frankenstein lifted his son's chin up and I could see there were tears in the boy's eyes.

"She's disappeared. William said the monster took her."

I looked to Victor. His complexion had grown a deep red and his fists were clenched at his sides. He glanced at me. I nodded, and followed him over to where the carriage was. We unhitched the horses and then took off. We met Justine with the unconscious William and stopped long enough for Victor to check him and make sure his vitals were strong. Despite the dark bruises on his neck, Victor was satisfied that his brother was in no further danger, so we rode off hoping that the creature had not escaped too far.

In my life I had seen Victor angry on various occasions, but never had I seen such fervent hatred and malice in his eyes. I feel as though all the frustrations and nightmares he had gone through in the past months were building up, converging into one condensed ray of abhorrence. Victor was not prone to suffering in his life, and by extent did not have a tolerance for it. Before his going to Ingolstadt, and specifically, before his mother died, he did not have a trouble in the world. He was still the same Victor I had always known, but darker. Whatever this creature of his was, it seemed to be wreaking more misery in Victor than it was in the world.

Not that I didn't sympathize with my friend, especially after seeing the marks on poor little William's neck. I felt the sting of guilt, seeing as how Miss Aizen had warned me something of this nature would happen. Of course it could be coincidence, but even if it was, I still could have made efforts to ensure nothing would come of it. Now she was in the clutches of this monster I had never seen before, and there was nothing I could do except help Victor pursue the beast and hope that she had remained unharmed.

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**Well, things just got interesting...sorry it took so long! But yes, the next chapter is going to be exclusively from Tori Aizen's point of view and will have much to do with Frankenstein's creature and some other things that are probably important to the story.**

**For those multitudes of diehard readers following my story, I probably won't be posting the next chapter till sometime next week because I'm going to Los Angeles this weekend for Stan Lee's Comikaze, something I've been looking forward to for months! Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading and don't forget to write in those reviews! I got one so far, and that person is right now my favorite.  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, well, this took a while, but hey, it's a lot longer than my other chapters, and it's in a perspective other than Henry's. And I'm sorry, but I decided not to write it in Tori's. Why? Because I'd have to give away too much of the plot, and we wouldn't want that now, would we? Okay, so here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

**Also, a not on dialogue, as one of my reviewers anticipated, there is a serious language barrier between Tori and the Creature. He learned FRENCH from the cottagers, and while Tori's been taking some lessons, from Justine, she's not that good yet and as a lot of my phonetic spelling will suggest, her accent is horrible. Her dialogue is written with italics and has some French in it to emphasize the fact that it's very hard for the creature to understand her. Okay, well, just know that whatever dialogue of hers is shown, it's spoken in French. I'll try and make it less confusing next time. (Also, all the translations are from Google Translate, so if they suck blame them).  
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Chapter 6

The girl had pulled a weapon on me, similar to the one that had injured me before. Her eyes were strangely calm as they stared unwaveringly back into my own. It was the first time in my existence that I had been looked on by another being without fear or disgust. I could not hold back the silent leap of joy in my heart. My grip on the small boy's neck loosened and I lowered him to the ground, but I did not release him.

"_William, are you all right_?" Her accent was broken and terrible, but her voice had self-assurance I could not help but feel drawn to.

The child was sobbing quietly, and I suddenly felt like the monster I had been treated as ever since I could remember. But the memories of such unfair treatment kept me from letting go of the boy fully. He was of the same blood as my creator, and though I no longer had the will to end his life and bring the agony of such a loss upon the man responsible for my agonizing existence, he could be of use in another way.

"_Let him go_." The girl started walking closer, the end of her small weapon aimed steadily at my chest. It took me a couple seconds to understand what exactly she had said. "_Laissez le aller_."

While I did not long to be injured again, I also desired more than my life if I gave up the boy. "He is my prisoner, just as I have been imprisoned in this hideous form all my life because of my creator. This boy is the same as him and does not know of a life without love. A life lived in crippling solitude and loneliness. He will be the remedy to my sad life."

The girl blanched, as if confused. Hesitantly, she spoke again. "_Uh…Didn't understand that. Could you say it slower_?" Apparently her fluency in my language was nonexistent.

I simplified my statement and said it clearly. "I am taking the boy. I will be lonely no longer."

"Oh." She frowned as if trying to figure out a problem. Then she did something I did not expect, and lowered the gun. "_Me prendre_. _Let him go_."

Her words were too good to be true, despite her offer being what I had been all too hopeful for. I decided to be cautious of her proposal. I looked to the weapon, no longer aimed at me, but still poised in her hand.

She caught where my gaze was focused and lightly tossed the metal gadget aside and held her hands out to the boy, eyes still on me. I stepped forward with him until we were only an arm's length apart. I released my hold and the boy ran into her open arms, his cries pouring out of him more fervently than before. She bent down to caress the light hair on his head and whisper soothingly in his ear. He buried his head into the crook of her neck.

After the child's sobs had changed into quiet whimpers, she tilted his chin up so he could look at her. She wiped away the tears that had stained his white cheeks and then got to her feet.

"_Aller a Justine_. _Oui_, _mon ami_?" She tried to pull him away from her, but the child grasped tightly onto her skirts. "_Find your brother. Find Victor_."

Through the trees I could hear faint voices coming our way. I reached over and grasped the girl's arm firmly. "We must go." I pulled her from the boy's grasp.

She looked back to the child. He had started screaming again and I could hear the voices coming closer. "_Trouver Victor_!" she yelled once more, stumbling under my grasp. She could not keep up with my pace through the denser trees so I hoisted her onto my shoulder. She gave a cry of surprise and said something angrily in the other language. I assumed that it was some foreign expletive against my person.

I continued that quick pace for a while and when I finally came to a halt, I felt exhausted, yet spirited. I gently set the girl on the ground. She immediately stood up and started brushing away dirt and twigs that had caught on her skirt. Her eyes gazed up at me expectantly. "_What now_?" She straightened and rested her hands on her hips, and though she was more than two heads shorter, I felt small under her glare.

"We will walk now." I grabbed for her arm, but she quickly stepped out of my reach.

"_I can follow fine_." She scoffed. "_Ne vais pas courir_." As if to make her point she began walking on.

I hung back for a moment, letting her lead on in silence. The wind pushed at the leaves in the trees and there were birds singing delightedly in the early afternoon day. The wind pulled lightly at her hair and clothes. I wondered who this girl was. She was not terrified or revolted by my appearance, and acted in a manner that lent me to the idea that she knew who I was. She had told the boy to seek Victor Frankenstein, my creator. Was this because she believed him capable and willing of saving her, or because she knew of his connection to my birth? What was her relationship to that cruel man? Would her disappearance cause my creator pain?

I would have continued these ruminations further, but the girl suddenly stopped. She looked around, her mouth set in a frown.

"_Oo-allon-noo_?" Where are we going?

Her question had surprised me. I was not familiar with having a set course in mind, since I had never desired to be in one specific location. The mountains lay ahead of us, and in truth ever since I had left the cottagers, there had been a plan to go live in exile from humanity atop one of the peaks in the cold and icy climes. But that had been before I stumbled upon my creator's family. It must have been a force greater than fate that led me back to Frankenstein. Somehow, I felt as if it was he who could give me the means of a better life. He was my flawed maker, and I his abhorrent progeny. If he could not help me, who would?

I decided that the mountains would still be the best choice to hide in wait for Frankenstein. The terrain was harsh and unsuitable for any other creature, but for me it would hold no difficulties. My body was used to the cold. The girl would no doubt find the conditions inhospitable, but that was another point in my favor. She would be forced to remain with me if she wished to survive. The icy environment would also act as a measure of insurance that she would not try to escape, though thus far she had shown no inclination to do so.

I pointed ahead, towards the ever-imposing mountains in front of us. She nodded and this time allowed me to lead the way.

She walked close by my side and would occasionally speak, though I did not understand anything she said. Her speech was fast and had a rather flat rhythm to it that only changed when she seemed excited or curious about something. Her presence was a distraction that I had never had the fortune to experience; it made the day's usually exhaustive travels seem much more pleasant and short than normal. At times she tried to converse with me, but her skills in French were poor at best. It was almost amusing listening to her stumble through a garbled sentence only to give up and return to her muttering in the other tongue. Because of this, I always knew when she grew weary; her talking would cease for longer periods of time until I stopped to allow her a chance to regain some strength. Surprisingly her stamina lasted longer than I would have thought and our stops were few and far between.

The abandoned cottage was small and creaking against the strong icy winds of the mountain, but it provided a suitable shelter. Fortunately there had been logs and tinder by the sizable hearth and a couple worn blankets on an old bed. The girl sat in front of the fireplace with both blankets wrapped tightly around her. She was silent and clearly fatigued from the long day.

Once the sun had dropped and we had reached the snowline, the temperature became too much for her. She had stopped and sat down and refused to get back up. Without bothering to warn her or seek her permission, I picked her up again. This time she did not protest. It was easy to climb the rest of the way, as I could continue at my own speed without worrying if she was able to keep up. The girl tried to keep her eyes facing forward, but when the winds picked up, she grudgingly buried her head against my chest. The gesture sent a warm sensation coursing through my body and I only felt more enthused in my march through the thickening snow.

She had fallen asleep before we reached the safety of the abandoned structure. Inside I had made sure to cover her with the blankets I found and then build a fire. She woke once I moved her to the area directly in front of the hearth where it would be warmest. She did not speak much after that. I had the sense that she was annoyed with my actions and choice of refuge. I decided to sit on the far side of the room, in hope that this would ameliorate her feelings toward me.

Her shivering was becoming more apparent as the night went on, until she suddenly got to her feet. She let out a growl that I did not know could come from such a body and began yelling strings of slurred speech that I could not understand. She looked over to me in between her pacing and angered ravings, as if I was expected to offer a response. In exasperation she swiftly came to stand in front of me.

"_Jay-say-frau!_" Her trembling voice leaked from behind her clenched teeth. So it was the cold she was irritated by.

"I do not know what you wish me to do about it." I honestly did not. I had made the fire, and I had given her the blankets. There was not much more I could do, though I did feel guilty that her discomfort was caused my own selfish decisions. "I will lend you my own coat if that is what you wa…"

She interrupted me by quickly grabbing hold of my sleeve and pulling me to my feet. She led me back to the hearth and motioned for me to sit down. I did so with my legs crossed. She pulled the blankets tighter around her head and shoulders and without warning settled down in the center of my lap. I flinched at the sudden and intimate contact, but she didn't seem to notice. She tugged at one of my arms and I freely let her move it like I was another oversized cover to wrap herself with.

I felt as if I was burning inside, and didn't know if it would be better to pull away or revel in the sensation. I had never been allowed to have a connection to another being, I had thought it impossible. Every other person on the face of this world that I had ever interacted with had been revolted by my outer form, all except the old blind man—but the rest of his family had seen me before I could ingratiate myself to him, and his son had chased me away like a beast. Why was this woman so different? She was not blind, or mentally debilitated as far as my knowledge would suggest. She was not as beautiful or as lithe as the lovely Safie, but there was a resolute strength in the robust curves of her body that I had not seen in any woman thus far.

She did not fear me. Or if she did, she hid it well and did not let it visibly affect her. She was at my mercy. She was supposed to be my prisoner, a bargaining chip for when Frankenstein would finally seek me out. And yet, she did not act as such. Her behaviors were not of one who was taken against their will. Nor were they the actions of one who believed themselves superior. No, her manners were most like those of the cottagers. True, I had never seen any of them raise their voices in frustration or act so irrationally. But they had shown me how powerful a comfort companionship could be. They had placed the desire for love and acceptance inside of my being. I could not inspire such feelings from them, the ones I had thought of as my protectors and friends for so long. Yet it was this strange woman who I could barely communicate with that had given me this first taste of intimacy.

I held no delusions of her motives, though. She was in need of warmth, and my body would provide her with the necessary heat to endure the night. Once again, I silently chastised myself for this oversight. I had known the cold would be difficult for her. I had counted on it. But I had hoped that a shelter and fire would be enough to suffice for her comfort.

I decided to think no more on the matter, and instead concentrate on the moment at hand. The girl's shivers were slowly dying down until they stopped altogether. She had positioned herself so that she could face the fire with my arms tightly embracing her against my chest. Her hands had disappeared into the blankets, along with most of her face. Only her eyes peaked out. To my surprise and delight, she began to quietly hum a strange lilting melody.

I closed my eyes, feeling complete contentedness for the first time in my life. The girl hummed for a while more, and then seemed to drift off to sleep. Her head lolled against my arm as she went limp. I spent the rest of the night with her in my embrace, listening to her soft breath and feeling her heart beat alongside my own.

The next morning I awoke to find that I had shifted in the night and was lying in front of the fire which seemed to have been tended to. Bits of light shone in through the small grime-stained windows. I surveyed the room quickly to find that the girl was absent from it, along with my coat. I immediately got to my feet, panic coursing through my veins. I fled to the door and swung it open, almost taking the wooden slab off of its feeble hinges.

The snowy morning was calm and clear; there was a slight breeze that rustled the sparse brush laying low to the ground. The girl's foot prints were easily discernible in the snow and just as I was on the verge of following them after her, I saw a body slowly making its way up the mountain path. I quickly ducked behind the door of the cottage, but realized there was no need. It was the girl.

I was baffled at seeing her again. I thought she had tried to escape, but if she had, why was she returning? Did she find her efforts futile? She walked through the door, acknowledging me with a nod of her head and a greeting in her own language, the behavior so casual it was like she had performed it on many mornings. Something limp and grey dangled from her hand. The girl walked over to the table in the corner, dusted its surface off, then dropped the dead animal on top of it. She shed my coat and hung it by the door and then went back to the table. She lifted the hem of her skirt up and retrieved a hidden knife from her boot. She caught that I was watching and flashed a satisfied grin while brandishing the sharp weapon. Once again, whatever she said was lost on my ears. She could have easily injured or even killed me in my sleep with such a blade. I once more wondered why she was enduring my forced custody.

I cautiously moved to get a better look as she worked on preparing the animal. She expertly wielded the knife as she sliced through the skin and belly of the poor creature, then proceeded to disembowel it. The hare was large, but very wiry and did not seem to have much meat on it. She went to the hearth and picked up the iron pot that had been resting beside it in disuse and quickly wiped it out with the edge of her skirt. She handed it to me and started speaking instructions, but realized the pointlessness of the action and began acting out what she wanted me to do. After a few humorous moments of watching her, I understood that she wanted me to gather snow into the pot.

I did as she asked and placed the snow-filled crock on the table beside her. She looked in it curiously and scooped some of it out and rubbed it between her hands to get some of the blood off. I continued to observe as she tore strip after strip of meat from the carcass and tossed it into the pot. When she was finished she carried the frozen mixture over to the hearth and hung it directly over the fire.

After that she began searching around the cottage, finding different items that could be of use in one way or another. She found two small bowls and a kettle, a couple mottled rags and outside by the side of the house a large wooden tub. She filled the kettle with more snow and hung it above the fire to heat beside the cooking pot.

She scooped broth into the two bowls and handed one off to me before sitting across from my location in front of the fire. She sipped lightly at the broth and sighed in content. I took a cautious sip from my own bowl and found the burning liquid to be the most savory fare I had ever tasted. I closed my eyes for a moment to fully enjoy the taste. I opened them to find the girl gazing at me, a smile on her face. She said something in her language, and the grin on her face grew wider in what I could only describe as smug glee.

I finished the broth in silence, listening to the string of constant incoherencies coming from the girl. She refilled her bowl twice more and mine as well. I could not tell if she was really speaking to me or just aloud, as if I were a wall to bounce her words off of.

It was not till later on in the day that not knowing what she spoke was becoming insufferable. The girl laughed and sang and smiled infectiously, but I wished to know what she said. I wanted to join in her good humor and joy, not just observe it.

Towards mid-day, the girl seemed at a loss for things to do. She wrapped the blankets around her shoulders and walked out the door, saying something to me as she left. Curious, I followed and found that she had started digging in the deep snow, constructing some kind of wall around a small ditch. Occasionally she would peak her head up and smile wickedly. I found a large rock to sit on and continued observing.

"What is it you are building?" I finally asked. I did not know if she would understand the query, but I decided it would be best to make some attempts at interacting with her.

"_Ffou?_" she replied after thinking for a moment, "_Meejon du…naige_?" A house of snow was the best I could guess.

I nodded in understanding. "What is its purpose? Why create it?"

She was ducked down behind her icy partition, and for a moment I believed that she did not hear my question, but as I rose from my seat, I found myself struck by a barrage of snow. The ice had hit me mostly in the chest, but some had splattered on my face as well and was quickly melting. I heard her stifled giggles from behind her "fort". Was this meant to humiliate me? What was the meaning of her actions?

The girl poked her eyes above the small ice wall, her laughing smile still apparent and clear. Her chuckling stopped, but the grin remained, as if she were waiting for something. After a moment of staring at me in expectation, she sighed and got out from behind her miniature fortress. She started speaking and making gestures, though I doubt she expected me to understand.

Finally she said, "_Eregardee, see vou play._" Watch, please. Her accent truly was atrocious.

She bent down and scooped a handful of snow into her palms and then began shaping it into a ball. She held it out for my consideration and then promptly threw it at a rock where it exploded in a shower of crystals. She put her hands on her hips and watched expectantly.

I nervously crouched down and lifted a large amount of snow into my hands. She nodded, and urged me on. I patted it down into a rather shapeless ball, but the girl seemed pleased nonetheless. She pointed to the rock where she had discharged her own projectile.

I raised the icy ball in my hand and took aim, and released it upon the top of the girl's head.

She yelped in surprise and jumped back, then began laughing uncontrollably. She quickly brushed the ice from her hair and jumped behind her shelter where she unleashed a rather impressive assault of hail. I tried to deliver an equal show of force in retaliation, but my ability to aim at a given target, especially when under fire was poorly lacking. The most effective method I could come up with was gathering an over-sized amount of snow in my arms and hurling it in the general direction of the girl. She quickly saw through my strategy though and knew how to time her own incursions when I was preparing for my offensive.

I still did not know what the point of the game was, as I had never taken part in such an activity. The closest situation I could think of was reading, though in that task it was the mind I exercised. I had never known that such entertainment and joy could be found in a simple contest. I do not even know which of us could consider ourselves victorious; while she had been able to pull off many more successful attacks than I, she had been the one to concede an ending to the competition.

Once inside the cottage, she began warming up more water and pouring it into the large tub. I didn't know what it was for, but decided to go back out. I was invigorated from our game and I realized that she would probably be famished as evening came about. I went scavenging for the fares I was experienced in finding. After vigorous searching, I was able to come up with a meager ration of roots and nuts for the both of us, and decided that it was time to return.

As I wandered back to the cottage my mind went to the strange events of the day. It was the first day I had in the company of another being. I could not figure what god had decided to take pity on my life and grant me such an angel, but I did not exactly care. All I knew was that for the first time in my life, I felt…content. Peace. The girl, this woman, was different in every way from any other being I had come into contact with since the fateful day of my wretched birth. Her eyes did not avoid or seem revolted by the sight of my body. They remained clear and thoughtful. Her behaviors spoke of familiarity and kind regard, though I do not know what I did to deserve such treatment.

I decided that I would endeavor from then on to win her favor. I held no delusions; either she would grow tired of my company or Frankenstein would find us, and that would be the end of my happiness. But if she wished to remain with me, my creator could not possibly take her. She was not like the women and girls I had seen cleaning laundry or pulling young children after them in the towns. Her manner spoke of potency of character and vigor; if she desired something, no one would take it from her without brutal opposition.

I stood outside the door to the little cottage which had so quickly become the center of my hope for continued happiness, and wondered how I could inspire a deeper sense of _affection_ in my companion. The soles of my feet began to feel numb, so I conceded to think on the matter later, preferably when I was warm and not ravenous.

I softly opened the door and stepped inside, ready to drop our fare on the table where she had prepared the rabbit. But I stopped, unable to move or look away from the sight I was treated to in front of the fire.

The girl turned in surprise, a bright blush rising in her face. "_Merde._"

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**Okay, well it's late and I have to wake up for school in a couple hours, so, see ya.**

**Remember, reviews make me happy! Shout out to _~eitherangel~_ hope you are satisfied with the amount of confusion as far as language goes. And I hope those rooting for the Creature/Tori ship enjoyed the fluff moments here!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, Chapter 7, woot! Back to Henry's Perspective! Sorry, but the small cliff hanger from last time will just have to wait for the next update!**

**Also, shout out to ~eitherangel for giving me a lot to thin about as far as the mental age, maturity, and basic knowledge that is possessed by the Creature and how he would react to Tori in certain *cough cough* situations. Okay, well hope ya'll enjoy!  
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Chapter 7

Victor and I searched the park for many hours, well into the evening, but the only sign of Miss Aizen recovered was her pistol, which we found in a clearing on the edge of the grounds. I did, however, take notice of the three distinct foot prints on the ground; the smallest obviously belonged to little William, the other petite steps most likely belonged to Tori. They trailed off with a larger set of imprints, easily double the width of my own. Once the prints passed the edge of the clearing it was impossible to follow them.

We rode back to the manor house by the light of the moon. Victor was silently brooding and I would have been content to leave him so, but a sudden thought came into my mind.

"Victor, do you remember the book that Miss Aizen was carrying with her?" I asked, wondering what my friend would think knowing the name on the cover.

"Vaguely. She never really brought it out for other eyes to see, did she now?"

"I saw the cover of it once." Victor's eyes looked up at me in minor interest. "After she had jumped out of the carriage, it fell out of her pack and I picked it up for her."

"And? What was it? Some diary or journal of sort? Knowing her it was probably some fanciful adventure novel."

"No, not that I know of, but the name printed on the cover…Victor, it was your family name."

He pulled the reigns of his horse and came to a complete halt. "What?" There was a look of astonishment and confusion on his face and he pulled his horse over to mine. "Henry, did you see anything else?"

"No, but there is no doubt, the book had the name **Frankenstein** printed across the cover." Hesitantly he urged his horse into a slow trot. I followed at his side, waiting for him to speak again.

"Why didn't you tell me this information earlier?" His gaze stayed directed on the dark road.

"She had asked me not to."

"And you believed it to be a good idea?"

I felt the bile taste of guilt welling in my throat. "Not really, but I'm finding I maybe had taken heed of her other requests."

Victor quickly glanced over at me. "What do you mean?"

I had not meant to bring up Miss Aizen's warning of a couple nights before, but I could not lie or deny Victor his right to be angry with me. "The night you had first been sick she had stopped me in the hall to inquire after your health. I explained to her that once you were feeling better we were to set out on another search for Elizabeth. I must confess my motives for the journey were to give your family some relief and hopefully revive your spirits a little. She had requested that I postpone our departure until her say so."

"What was her reason for such a request?"

"She said she felt as if some incident was about to happen." I took a breath and continued on. "When I pressed her for more details, she claimed that your creature was going to show up. She did not know when he would, but seemed absolutely convinced that she was right in this assertion. Despite this I decided not to take her request into consideration."

Victor was visibly shaking in his mount. His head fell back and his eyes looked straight into the sky. In the blue light I could see small glistening trails descending down his face. "How does she know so much? How can she know so much?" His gaze fell to me, no anger in his countenance but rather hurt and betrayal. "Why did you not tell me?" I realized his anger would have been much easier to bear.

"Victor, I was worried about you. And your family. I do not claim this as an excuse in hopes that you will forgive me, but you had become sick, in a way that no doctor could cure. Your mood and attitude were caustic and it was taking a toll on the rest of the household, mainly Ernest, your father, and Justine." I looked towards the forest, not willing to meet my friend's gaze. "You needed a change. A reprieve from your search for Elizabeth. All of our efforts were making no progress. I thought it would be in everyone's interest if we put the search on hold."

A sudden blow landed on my face. It was not very painful, but had taken me by surprise and made me fall from atop my saddle and land in the dusty road. I looked up to Victor, his countenance twisted horribly between rage and complete anguish. "How dare you. You who are supposed to be my closest and friend and ally. But no, you betray me, just like every other being in this world. I will find Elizabeth, with or without you. You do not make such decisions when it comes to my affairs—_my_ family. And they are my family. Not yours." He turned the lead on his horse. "Go to your own home tonight, Clerval. You are not welcome in mine." He cracked the reigns and his horse galloped off.

I called his name out, but he did not stop or slow. I got up and brushed off my clothes. His rejection of my sympathies was the hardest blow, even more so than the fist to my jaw. I know I should have felt more guilt in light of the events, but I could not. I felt only a deep frustration with Victor, and this only served to make my heart heavier.

I remounted my horse and rode slowly. I did not head to my own family's modest home as Victor suggested, but rather went to town where I rented a room at the inn. I knew the owner well, so he was understandably at a loss for why I would take up lodgings so close to home. I explained that I desired solitude on that night, so he graciously guided me to a cozy room and sent up a warm meal after I was settled in.

I did not have any night clothes to sleep in, so I merely removed my boots and outer garments before lying on the bed. The events of the day bombarded all my thoughts until I slipped into a fitful sleep, and I was once more at the mercy of my devilish and disturbing dreams.

I awoke late the next morning to a knock on the door of my room. The voice of the innkeeper sounded through the wood partition and informed me that there was a summons for me. I asked from whom, and he replied the Frankensteins.

I wondered if Victor had had a change of heart, or more importantly if he had found some clue to the creature and Miss Aizen's whereabouts.

After hastily dressing and splashing some water on my face, I left the inn and rode back to my friend's home. As soon as I walked through the door he pulled me quickly to his study and slammed the door. I watched him warily, his eyes had a sagging look about them which suggested he had neglected sleep the night before. They also evoked the sense that he had gone through many different emotions in a very short time. The frustrations I had felt the night before melted away, and once I was unburdened by them I realized Victor's face had gone through another change.

"Henry, before you say anything, I must apologize." Victor stepped over and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I…I did not mean what I said. You have always been a part of this family and you always will." His fingers roughly gripped my shoulders, as if he were afraid I might disappear.

"Victor, what has happened? Have there been any new developments?"

He removed his hand and laughed manically. "There have been many new developments…or one large one…I do not know! I knew nothing, I realized—but now…now I know very much, indeed!" He walked about the room, looking up at the high ceilings as if he had never had the occasion to notice them.

"You are starting to worry me, Victor. What is this new information you've learned?" I finally grabbed his arm to keep him still for a moment.

He froze at my touch and turned to face me, a sad grin spread across his lips. "Your dear Miss Aizen is not clairvoyant, but she did have a certain source which provided her with such knowledge."

"Why do you say this?" I asked.

"I found the book you spoke of." His face took on a darkened shade. "Henry, it was like reading my own nightmare…I thought that perhaps I would wake and find that everything in it had come true."

"You read her book?"

"Yes." He went over to his desk, the wildness in his eyes had faded, replaced now with severity. He reached into a drawer and pulled the tiny volume out. It seemed even more worn and decrepit than when I had first laid eyes on it. "Here. Many of the pages are torn out from the front and there are some strange equations written inside I don't fully understand."

I cautiously opened it and flipped through a few of the browned pages. Many of them had scrawled messages in the tiny margins, most of them illegible. I began skimming through the pages and immediately stopped. What I read was impossible.

I had flipped to a random page in the book and immediately found myself reading about mine and Victor's time at the University in Ingolstadt. Every detail was correct, down to what I had been studying and the state in which I found Victor. Only one thing was missing—Miss Aizen. I went a couple more pages without looking up, remembering the fever and Victor's hysterics. Then I reached the place where a letter had come from home. I had to close the book after that. It had been from Elizabeth, and it had claimed that William was dead and Justine was the one accused in the crime. I turned back to the front of the book and was about to start reading from the beginning, but Victor pulled it out of my hands.

I looked at him feeling both disbelief and horror. "How is that possible? Where could she have gotten it from?"

"I don't know, but there's no time for you to read it now. I believe I may know where the creature took our lady of mystery."

Something about his voice seemed off. The melancholy he had been suffering from before seemed gone, which in my mind meant only one thing. "Do you think he also has Elizabeth, then?"

"No." He held the book up. "If what is written in this book is correct to some extent, then he would have had no occasion to even know who she was or her connection to me. The only reason he attacked William was because he discovered his relation to me."

"And it says this in the book?" I looked at it in his hands. He held it with an almost reverential fear. "But William is alive. That thing claims he died when we were still at the University."

He shook his head. "We have no time for discussions. There is something at work here and we need to find Miss Aizen. She knows more than she let on. Much more." He tucked the book into his coat, and we once more prepared to head out on another journey.

This new state of mind which had taken possession of Victor was unsettling to say the least. He had insisted that I read only certain parts of the novel, mainly the creature's own narrative and most of what lead up to it. He wished me to go no farther than that. While I found the contents to be startlingly accurate in some senses, I still found it impossible to take the book as some kind of supernatural artifact of Victor's life. But Victor was of the impression that this book, and Miss Aizen by extension, held the key to finding Elizabeth. He was certain she was alive, but unreachable at the present. He tried to explain the equations at the front to me, but it was clear he didn't fully understand them quite yet. He rambled on about the "properties of exchange and transference" but it might as well have fallen on deaf ears. I was not comprehensively inclined to the sciences or mathematical arts.

Suspending whatever disbelief I held to the nature or source of the novel, if Tori had indeed thought it to be the truth, I could now understand some of the motives behind her actions and behaviors that had confused me earlier. The letter we received in Ingolstadt—I realize she might have believed that to be the letter telling of William's tragic murder. I remembered the relief on her face when realizing that it was not the case. It also made it clear why she had requested I postpone our going away to search for Elizabeth, or why she had always seemed so protective of the youngest Frankenstein son.

Her feelings towards the creature, insisting that he was not a monster, I now understood why she would be of this opinion. After reading of my his feverish endeavor, I found myself disappointed in Victor. He had been like a child who misbehaves just to see how far he could go before being disciplined by a parent. Only in his case, there was no one to rebuke him for his actions—at least there hadn't been before.

Whether the events detailed in the book were true or not, the exposition of his early life was entirely accurate, Victor had been careless in his genius. Yes, his work might have started out as sincere, but genius and pride had served to taint and disfigure his original motivations.

As our day progressed, I realized he took every word in the book to be fact, or rather, the fact of another possibility. He explained that he believed this to be the progression of events of his life had Miss Aizen not been in it. She was the only piece missing from the narrative that was present in reality, and because of this he was sure she would be able to answer for Elizabeth's disappearance, which also never happened in the novel. It seemed as if his fixation no longer sat on his wayward creature, but on the girl who had somehow dropped in on his life and sent things askew.

The gentle trod of the horses upon the earth set in me a certain rhythm that made me feel like there was a kind of unraveling of my world. I could not bring myself to believe this book was real, surely it was some kind of morbid joke, perhaps put on by Miss Aizen herself. I would suspect her of writing it herself, but it was clearly printed and had an aged quality about it that suggested the tome to be at least a few years old—long before the girl had actually met us, or before Victor had even begun construction on the creature.

We were over half way to the valley of Chamounix when we stopped for the night. Though we had left in a hurry, our departure had been well after the noon hour and our going was slow due to my reading and Victor's constant interruptions to reach over and point out a new place in the book for me to look at.

I went to bed that night with a sense of apprehension. Victor, for all I could tell, did not sleep. When I had finally dozed off in my own small bed at the inn, he had been reading by dim candle light. He woke me before the sun had risen in a restless flurry of movements, gathering our things together, and dressing. We had made sure to bring heavier clothes for our ascent into the mountains.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the mountains when we mounted our horses and began once more on a path that followed the Arve into the valley. The Mer de Glace loomed before us, the light of morning sparking off its icy peak. A shudder went through my body, and I wondered for the hundredth time on that trip, what exactly awaited us upon that mountain.

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**Well, hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think, because god knows I love getting told how awesome I am. Just kidding, if you have some critiques, I love those as well!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey there! Wow, it's been a little while since I last updated, and I'm very sorry, but school has been kicking my butt along with other writing projects that I'm currently engaged in. I've already got the next chapter in my head, so it should be out sometime in the next week depending on how much of it I'm able to write. **

**I didn't do too much editing for this chapter, so if you see a mistake or something, let me know!  
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**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this totally exciting and action-packed chapter!  
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**-Rean  
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Chapter 8

I could not breathe. And I could not move. My thoughts seemed to disappear and all I could comprehend was the trail of water running down the silhouetted curvature of the girl's body. I felt as if I was not really there, that my conscience had fled my body and stumbled upon this private scene. I felt the overwhelming urge to simultaneously flee and fall at her kneeling form. The firelight shimmered on the edges of her skin and created a halo about her. Not even Adam could have wished for a more beautiful Eve.

Then the moment ended.

The girl cursed and grabbed for the blanket on the ground. She threw it around her shoulders before standing up and lightly stepping out of the little wooden tub. Her eyes turned to me once more, but I noticed she had kept her distance. Droplets pooled at her feet on the hard stone floor.

"_You okay?_" she asked. Her hard voice shook me from my trance and I immediately turned away.

My thinking came back to me in a rush of urgency and I went back out the door in a panic. After I left the light and warmth of the cottage my body moved on its own, and I found myself running away into the darkness of the bitter mountain. I do not understand exactly what prompted me to run other than the fact that I did not know what else to do. A part of me felt as if I would have attacked the woman—for I could no longer think of her has a girl—not in rage, but what I could only guess was longing. I had never felt the desire for human contact so _physically_. Seeing the companionship that others shared had many times driven me to tears, but this hunger actually bore a sharp pain that resonated deep to my very core. I felt it in the muscles of my legs and abdomen, and I did not know how to dissipate such a sensation.

So I continued running.

I slowed, finally, and slumped into a deep drift of snow. The ice served to numb my limbs and cool the fire that had been devouring my every nerve. A wolf howled in the distance, its cry soon answered by another. Everything seemed to stop in that moment.

I know not how long I stayed in the snow, trying to concentrate only on the frozen relief around me. My head settled and I felt a strange calm. There was a sense of fragility in the air, as if the smallest breath could disturb the stillness. I began to silently weep, though I do not know exactly why.

I had determined upon myself that day to win the girl's favor, but I had run away from her, like a frightened adolescent. There was some unbearable latency that had been ground into me since the first time I opened my eyes on the horrified expression of my creator, and it was that I would never understand what it was to have beauty. This girl was beautiful. And while she had shown me tolerance and even companionship, I knew that I could never have her. I had been fooling myself to think I could gain her continued esteem.

Yet, it was her who stirred me from my reverie in the snow. I could hear her voice, a note of worry in it, call out in the night. My eyes gazed through the dark and the trees and alighted on the lantern she held high.

I quickly brushed the iced tears from my visage. She must have seen my dark form against the snow and hastily shuffled over to me.

When she came to a stop she began speaking very fast in her own tongue, throwing in the occasional term I could comprehend which led me to understand she was relieved to find me. She had fallen to her knees in the snow beside me and was reaching up to touch my forehead with the back of her hand. Her skin felt colder than the snow, though it might have been that my own body was still too heated. She whispered something with finality and sighed.

She rocked back to her feet and offered a hand to me. I took hold of it, gently, and slowly stood up.

The girl glanced up at me, her eyes appraising and her smile soft.

I moved to release her slender fingers, but she reaffirmed her grip and pulled me alongside of her.

The breeze picked up again and it began to snow light flakes. There was a rustle from the bushes behind us, but I could not bring myself to wonder what animal hid beneath them. The snow muffled the world around us and all I could care about was the warmth of her hand in mine.

However, in the corner of my perception I felt as if there was an unwanted presence, lurking in the shadows. A couple times, I believed there had been a breath or gasp brought to my ears by the wind, or a shadow that would hide right as I turned to look at it. The girl did not seem to be aware of such a thing, so I pushed it from my mind.

Once back in the warmth of the cottage, the woman moved me to sit in front of the fire beside the tub of water. She poured more into it from the heated kettle. Then she helped me remove my outer clothing, which was damp and cold from the snow. She set them on a hook close to the hearth to dry and then turned her sights on me.

I had never felt as exposed as I did in that moment. I wrapped my arms around me, insecure in her scrutiny. But I had no reason to be so. The scarred and blotted mass she saw did not produce even the slightest shiver from her. Her smile merely changed to a mildly disapproving frown. She took up the rag from the tub of hot water and enthusiastically began to wash me, starting with my back. As she did so she talked. I realized I was beginning to catch on to some of the words, though I did not understand their meaning. The word she spoke most often was "_Dammit_." I believed it to be some expletive.

She scrubbed vigorously over my shoulders, my neck, and down my arms. There was something innately comforting in her movements. I wondered if this was something a child would experience at the hands of their own mothers. Each press and preen was severe in its enthusiasm, but behind it was a tenderness that spoke of caring affection. Any discomfort I had felt was siphoned away by each cleansing stroke of her hand.

She rang the cloth out in the water, which had turned rather dark with the dirt and grime from my body, and then handed it to me. She guided my hand with an experienced touch and showed me her wish that I finish my own ablutions. She motioned a hand over my torso and then pointed to the lower half of my body. I nodded my understanding and she left me with a smile. As I continued to wash, I would glance over at her, working at the table where she had gathered all the food stuffs I had found earlier. She began singing a tune as she chopped and skewered roots and cleaned the berries in a bowl of warm water. This song was different from the one she had hummed the night before, more solemn in its moving rhythm. I could hear the pained swing of her voice in certain notes. It reminded me of the times when the old man would play his violin for his children. His music had always caused me tears, and I found the same true of the girl's song now. I turned back to the fire and concentrated on removing the layer of filth that seemed ever present on my skin. I could feel the girl behind me in her lilting movements about the room.

I finished my washing and the girl once more stood before me, eyes shining with deliberation at my handiwork. After running the wash cloth over a couple places she found unsatisfactory, she nodded.

"Hair now," she said in her broken accent. She positioned my head hung over the tub then drew up the kettle and poured the hot water over my scalp. It felt scalding at first, but as she repeated the action it became soothing. She worked her fingers through my hair, gently massaging and kneading through knots and tangles. She brushed it out in the tub and then rinsed it several times with clean water from the kettle till she was satisfied. She snatched the blanket that had been laid out beside the fire and began patting me down with it. She ruffled it over my hair and face in an exaggerated manner. Even with my eyes covered I could imagine the mischievous grin that was undoubtedly on her lips. She ended her assault on my head and left me to finish. Once I had, she brought the prepared food over to the hearth. I pushed the wooden tub of dirty water to the door and then took a seat beside the girl where she was portioning out our meal.

The roots I had gathered were of the bitter type. The girl had sliced them in to long thin pieces and had roasted them over the fire, seasoned with the leaves of a plant she had found earlier. The berries she had mashed into a pulp and thrown in the crushed nuts. I had never known cooking quite like this and I found it suited my tastes very much. It was a pity that I had not been able to collect more for her to work with.

I went to sleep that night, the girl once more snug in my arms for warmth, and felt like a new creation, like I had been reborn. The girl had stripped away my abhorrence, the sores of my stained existence, and there was a newness in me that I could not completely grasp. I felt like both a happy child and a mended man, content and finally satisfied in my being.

It was not fully morning when we were awoken by the crashing of the door and the yelling of men. Before I could react to their assault an explosion resounded in the room and I felt the crippling pain in my chest. I crumpled back to my knees and watched through blurred vision as two of them grabbed the girl's arms. She twisted and kicked out at them, catching one in the stomach and then sending an elbow into the chest of the other. She quickly found her knife then ran to my side and adopted a defensive stance. The man who had shot me aimed his weapon at her, but did not shoot.

"Why do you not stand behind your demon, witch? Is he not supposed to protect you?" the man spat. The girl obviously did not understand. She moved back a step.

"I am not a demon," I said through labored breaths. The men gathered in the room gasped and recoiled at my voice and the weapon flickered between me and the girl. I pushed myself onto my knees and looked at them. "She does not understand our language, but know this. She is not a witch. Put your weapon down." I tried to push the girl behind me. She stubbornly stayed at my side.

The man did not lower his gun, but I could see there was a blossoming doubt in each of his comrades' expressions. "If you are not a demon, then what manner of being are you?"

I had on numerous occasions pondered this very question, and could never come to an answer—until now. "I am a man," I answered, "I've lived my life in loneliness and despondency, and in that time I would not have made such a claim. But this woman has shown me great kindness and I no longer feel exiled from the community of man." A convulsion of pain shot through my body and I coughed up a large amount of blood. The girl witnessed this with horror and dropped the knife in favor of helping me. She snatched the blanket from nearby and forced it over my wound. She carefully leaned me onto my back, still pressing the blanket to the soaking mess on my torso. She hovered over me and the expression on her face reminded me of the face of the mountain itself.

The man had by now lowered his gun and was looking on at the scene, him and his men at a loss of what to do. The girl glanced back at them and then pointed to the kettle on the table.

"Water!" she yelled. One of the men blinked and then moved to get the container and began the process of heating the snow in it.

The girl removed the sopping blanket and set it on the ground. She inhaled sharply as she looked at my chest. Then she carefully tore my tattered shirt open and peeled it back from my flayed skin. After a minute or so, the snow had melted and was warm enough to use. The girl carefully poured it over my chest. Though the water itself was not terribly hot, it burned and sent needles through my wounded flesh on contact. She then took up her knife, her eyes met mine.

"_This is gonna hurt._" Though she spoke the words in her own tongue, I understood their sentiment.

Carefully, she began digging out the tiny metal bearings that had lodged themselves in my flesh. It was the most excruciating pain I had felt in all my life. I did not quite understand why she had to remove the tiny bullets, but there was no hesitance in her manner, which led me to trust her actions. I watched her face as she worked, trying to keep my attention on her and not on the agonizing stabs of her knife. Her normally gently brow was screwed up in concentration, glistening from a cold sweat. Her eyes were wide, but focused so intently it was like I was the only one in the room.

The men, five of them in total, had all gathered around behind her, observing fearfully behind her shoulder. Occasionally, they'd get too close and without looking away from her work, the girl would shoo them back with an impatient wave.

The time passed like a feverish dream, and finally the girl put down her knife. With the back of her hand she wiped the sweat from her face and gathered up the kettle of water, once more pouring it over her hands and then my chest. Though cooled, it still stung mightily. She then began tearing strips from one of her inner skirts. She folded the blanket and laid it across the wound, then motioned me to sit up. Holding the blanket in place, she began to wrap the strips of cloth from her skirt around my chest. She finished by tying the ends of the cloth in a tight knot.

I lightly inspected the dressing with a light brush from my fingers. The girl sighed, relieved, and finally allowed herself to smile weakly. A few tears escaped from her eyes. I cupped my hand against her cheek and wiped them away with my thumb.

"Thank you," I said.

She grinned and took my hand in her own. She said something in her own language and then got to her feet. She ran the back of her hand over her eyes to get rid of any stray tears and then turned to face the men. "You speak English?" she asked. They seemed surprised by her grating accent.

One of the men stepped forward and said something to her in what sounded similar to her tongue. I listened to their quick drumming utterances and immediately a pang of envy hit me. Mastering language had been one of the few successes I had had in life, and finding now that I could still not communicate with the one being who seemed to enjoy my company was disheartening.

But her mannerisms toward the men did bolster my spirit, as I could tell there was a definite coldness in her posture and the tone of her voice. Her head was tilted coyly to one side, one corner of her lips perpetually curled in the faintest hint of a sneer—though I doubt the men noticed these details. They seemed distracted by the voluptuous lean of her hips and the low neckline of her gown. Despite how tattered the garment was by now, it could not hide the girl's figure.

The man who spoke in her tongue, mediated between his comrades and the girl, something I found I was infinitely thankful for.

"She says she is American," I heard him say to his men. I had heard of this land across the sea, but I did not know much about it.

"What is she doing out here?" The man translated, the girl responded.

"She says she was looking for her family, but ran out of money so took a job as a house servant down in Geneva." He listened to her words for a moment more. When she finished, the translator looked back at me and then related it to his men. "She found _him_ a few days ago and decided to help him out."

The man with the gun, now at his side, pondered this for a moment. He took his eyes off the girl and looked over at me. The expression in his glare was no longer of hate, but there was a distinct fear and distrust in them. "Why would she do such a thing, _monsieur_? She is not here by any kind of durance or coercion, is she?"

I pushed myself up, much to the distress of the girl. She grabbed my arm in an attempt to force me back down, but I could tell she was not using her full strength. She remained attached to my elbow. I remembered how I had woken up the day before, alone and thinking she had left; how she had pulled the hidden knife from her boot, as if emphasizing the fact that I did not hold any power over her. "I do not think she would be here if she did not wish to be," I said, "Though I would not begrudge her decision to leave. I would only thank her for the honor of her company."

The translator seemed to express my words to her. Her response was to snort and treat me to light slap on the arm.

The translator looked shocked at her next words. "I do not think I can repeat that in good faith." The leader of the group, who I now noticed to be older than the other four, took him to the side and the man reluctantly whispered the message.

I looked down at the girl, there was a look of utter satisfaction upon her face.

Finally there was a loud laugh from the older man and he turned back to us. He once more looked the girl over with an appraising look, and then his scrutiny rolled over to me. The man appeared more benevolent now, his rough hands rested on his waist in open regard and his pistol seemed forgotten.

"It appears you need not fear her leaving, to give an abridged translation of her exact words." He looked at his weapon and stowed it away with finality. "I will not lie, the fact that you are able to stand so soon after such an injury is very disturbing. But you and the young lady seem to be harmless…perhaps you should come back to town with us so our physician can look over your wound."

I touched the bandages again. The pain I felt beneath them had subsided a bit, but the slightest movement seemed to inflict their fullest wrath. "Your gesture is greatly appreciated, but I do not think I will be welcomed by the rest of your town. Even your men are still unsure of me."

The man turned a quick eye on his men and I saw he knew this to be true. He dismissed them quietly and they left through the door to wait outside, all except the translator. He kept a steady interpretation of our words going for the girl—though it was obvious he was avoiding my gaze. The older man turned back to me. "Even so, that wound should be checked by a doctor. You could die from it."

I shrugged and lowered my head, remembering the events from a few weeks before. "It is not the first time I have sustained such an injury. I believe it will heal more easily this time after being cleaned and dressed by the girl." I stopped for a moment and the four of us could hear the other men outside the door arguing. It was clear they did not approve of their elder's interactions with a "monster". The girl gripped my arm even tighter.

The man scowled. "Don't mind them. They're young and foolish…sometimes even more foolish than an old fool like myself." He scratched at the graying hair beneath his fur cap. "I regret shooting so quickly. It was a mistake I don't often make, but that doesn't make it any less of a crime. Is there some way I can make it up to you and the lady?"

Before I could say anything, the girl launched into a list of demands, which were then translated to the man. He nodded at each item, "…food, blankets, firewood, kindling, an axe, and any books you can spare." The older man chuckled at the last item, which I found of interest. I had not read in a long while, and the idea of doing so while sitting next to a fire with the girl was enticing. I wondered if perhaps I could teach her how to speak French as the De Laceys had done for the beautiful Safie.

"Are you certain, monsieur, that I cannot entreat you to come back with us?"

I shook my head.

"Very well, then I will see about getting you these provisions before nightfall." The man stopped as if remembering something. "By the way, you may call me Briand. What do you call yourselves?"

The girl answered before I had a chance to even think about his question. "Tori," she said with a nod of her head, then she looked up at me and grinned, "Adam." I wondered at the nature of her choice—was it merely coincidental or did she know more than she let on.

"Fine, if interesting names. I will see you again before the day is out." He smiled and nudged the younger man to follow him out. The translator bid goodbye to the girl and then turned to me and nodded once uncertainly.

The girl shifted her gaze up to me and I could tell her mind was not completely at ease. My musings on her choice of name for me would have to wait. She muttered under her breath.

Though I did not completely understand, it was clear that she had misgivings of the man's offer. His sincerity had appeared to be truly given, and I wondered at the nature of human society. It seemed as though the tolerance of one led to the acceptance of others. True, the younger men did not accept me, but their benefactor, Briand, had quickly altered his opinion when he saw how the girl acted in regard to my injury and my person in general.

The girl. She had a name now, but to me she would always be "the girl". Her name was strange—_Tori_—and had a hard quality to it. It seemed awkward on my own lips, but the girl brightened and looked up when I said it aloud.

She helped me settle down back in front of the hearth and went about preparing things for the rest of the day. It was still well before noon, and the sun breathed a warm light through the little window. The girl threw more wood on the fire and it rose up in its grate. She walked around the room, setting things back in place that had been overturned in the struggle. She had put all the bullets from my chest in one of the tiny bowls, wiped away the blood from the floor and collected all the soiled rags in a pile next to the wooden tub of water by the door. She opened the door and tipped the tub outside to empty it of the old water and began filling it with new water. She threw the rags into it and began vigorously scrubbing them together to remove as much of the stains as possible. Once satisfied, she hung them near the hearth to dry.

She left for an hour or so after that and came back with another skinny hare, which she proceeded to prepare in the same manner as the day before. She was not as light-hearted in her actions as she was previously. She did not sing her strange songs or step in that lilting manner that suggested she was working through a dance in her own mind. She skinned the rabbit with rigid strokes. I looked up when I heard her drop the knife and seethe a curse through clenched teeth. Her thumb had a trickle of blood coming from it.

When the savory broth was done cooking, she poured me out a bowl and took one herself. We ate in relative silence, listening only to the crackle of the burning wood and the winter birds outside. Despite not eating for that entire day, she seemed disinterested in the food, and had only finished half of her bowl when she put it down and began pacing.

"I do not like this," she said suddenly, "Not right." It had been hours since the men left, more than enough time to walk to the town and back. The day was warmer and there was no breeze to hinder such a short journey.

"I will go." I began getting to my feet, but as soon as I moved a sharp pain jolted me and I gasped. The girl instinctively rushed to my side and began gently pushing me back onto the makeshift bed.

"No. I go." She brushed a hand through my hair, then bent over and pressed her lips against my brow. "You get well." Her words were low and sank warmly into my skin. She stood up and smiled down at me before donning my cloak and heading out the door into the afternoon light.

It was almost nightfall and there had been no sign of Tori or the man, Briand. It was getting dark and the temperature was beginning to decrease. The uneasiness the girl had expressed earlier had threaded its way into my own mind and had found myself increasingly restless for her return the farther the sun dipped down in the sky. Now that it was gone and the last vestiges of light were fading on the horizon, I decided I would have to make the cold trek to the town if I was to have any sense of peace. What if the girl had gotten hurt on her way? Or some other terrible misfortune had befallen her? I had to find out, or else I felt I would lose my sanity.

I slowly pushed myself up, tensed for the inevitable pain of the wound. Once I had gotten to my feet, the white agony plateaued and I could manage to walk, though my movements were horribly stiff.

I thought about the gentle press of the girl's lips on my skin as I walked through the cold snow. I remembered seeing such exchanges between the young Felix and lovely Safie. I wondered if the girl's kiss meant something similar, or if it was just meant as a show of friendly affection, a promise that she would be back. Whatever the nature, I felt even more impelled to seek her out.

The moon guided my path through the night, and though it gave much light to my surroundings, it did not provide any warmth against the frigid air. I walked on, hoping that nothing had befallen the girl I considered my only friend in the world.

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**Oh man, what's going to happen next? Well, I'll tell you right now, we're going back to Henry's POV, and it's going to be super crazy action and maybe a little more romance? Who knows! So stay tuned in to find out!**

**Also, I want to give a big shout out to ~eitherangel again, for her amazing review of my story on her own amazing fic "The Creature and the Maiden". I suggest you go check it out! I know I've been reading it like crazy and am on chapter 21 now! So thank so much again!  
**

**Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! I'm so sincere in my desire to know your thoughts!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, I'm really sorry this didn't come sooner! School has been killing me and I'm trying to get together my application for the JET Program to go to Japan next year, I have a bunch of writing projects for school and I started a novel for Novel Month in November! This chapter is actually cut short and I have the first few pages of the next already written because I haven't because I originally wrote these two as one, and then decided to give you this much and cut it a little short. So yeah. Don't be mad, I haven't given up on this story yet!**

**Anyway, we're in Henry's voice again! Yay!  
**

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Chapter 9

We made it to the village above the Chamounix Valley sometime after midday, it was the last outpost of society before the ascent into the glacial mountains. There was an excitement in the air of the village when we arrived, and most of its people were gathered at the tavern below the inn. We tied our horses outside of the wooden building and made out way inside, trying to push our way to the bar where it appeared the lady of the establishment was quartered, listening to the loud conversations being thrown about. I smiled as we approached and she allowed some of her attention to be put our way.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" she asked, a practiced note of welcome in her voice, though her eyes kept darting back to the men behind us.

"We'd like a room and perhaps a hot meal if you have anything prepared," I said. I noticed Victor had allowed the excitement to capture his interest.

The woman nodded. "I believe we have a room available—one bed or two?" Her smile curled up into a conspiratorial grin.

"Two. Please."

She shrugged and reached for a set of keys on the wall behind her. "Horace!" she yelled over the crowd. A young man peeked his head out from the group gathered in the bar. The woman raised her voice again, "Take a break from all that witchy business and help these gentlemen find their room."

The young man, really an adolescent, took the key from the woman and helped us bring our things upstairs. There was an intense silence that engulfed our little party as we climbed the stairs. The boy seemed disturbed and barely even made eye contact with us as he led the way. Once he had unlocked our room and set our things down, he hurriedly made his way back to the door, not even attempting to ask a coin for his trouble. Victor stopped him, however, before he could exit the room.

"Excuse me," asked my friend, "but what is going on? The whole town seems as if it is in an uproar."

The boy briefly glanced over at us, then took a deep breath. "If you must know they're all worried about a witch on the hill. Last night the butcher's youngest son had been out wandering around, trying to give his parents a scare. He came back yelling about a demon and a witch, and this morning a group of us went hiking around the glacier looking for these apparitions. What we found was…startling." He paused, and I almost thought he was not going to continue. He leaned against the door frame, as if trying to make sense of the event himself. "We found an old cottage we thought to be abandoned, and when we went inside we found what we first thought to be some giant monster, or a demon as the butcher's son had said, when it moved, Briand shot it without thinking and we saw that it had been lying beside a woman, maybe a couple years older than myself. We tried to grab her, thinking her the witch, but she put up a struggle and was able to get out of our men's grip..."

I had to fight back a smile, knowing that this indeed was the woman I had come to know.

The boy went on. "She grabbed a knife and stood in front of the monster. But then the thing spoke and told us it was a man and the girl was not a witch and had willingly kept company with him over the past days."

Victor snorted, causing the boy to stop once more and look at him questioningly.

"I assure you, monsieur, everything I've said is true. The girl could only speak English and I had to mediate between her and my friends. She spoke these words under no duress."

Victor walked over to the young man. "I believe every word you say, I just found it amusing that such a woman would willingly stay with such a creature. What happened next?"

The boy eyed Victor warily. "The…_man_ had been injured by Briand's shot, so the girl went about removing the bullets and cleaning the wound and then dressing it. After watching her, Briand decided we should try to help them, to make up for our attack. We came back down to the village to get supplies to make their habitations more comfortable, but…" The boy stopped and looked over his shoulder. Even from our second-floor room, we could hear the arguments roaring downstairs.

"Let me guess," I said softly, "not everyone agrees with this Briand."

The boy nodded. "Aaron and Robert still believe the girl's a witch. Their younger brother is the one who had seen the two the night before, and by the way he came screaming into their home, they say it couldn't have been anything but a demon out of hell that scared him. They were also the ones who had first tried to grab the woman. She elbowed Robert in the face and kicked Aaron in the ribs—she bruised their pride almost as much as their bodies." I noticed a small flicker of a smirk at his last comment.

I stepped beside Victor. "And what do you think? You were the one to actually speak to the girl—did she seem like she was under coercion or did not wish to be there? Do you believe her to be a witch and this creature her demon?"

The boy crossed his arms and looked past us to the window. "The girl was strange and vulgar, but I do not believe her to be a witch. She was very brave to step in front of the gun to shield her friend. The fact that she would do so seems proof enough that she is not being kept against her will."

"Was there anyone else with them?" Victor asked, though by his tone he did not sound very hopeful that the boy would reply in the affirmative.

He shook his head. In our brief silence we were able to hear that the heated debates had ceased downstairs.

"Are you going to see them again?" I asked.

"If Briand has his way, then yes. He'll want me to come along to translate for the girl." He turned to head back out the door, but stopped short once more. "Why are you so interested, monsieurs? Are you familiar with either of these persons?"

I looked to Victor, not sure what he would say. He paused for a moment, then answered bluntly. "Yes. The girl was employed at my home recently."

The boy nodded. "She had mentioned being a housekeeper. If we ever get on our way, you are welcome to come with us. I'm sure Briand would not mind."

"We'd be very appreciative of that," replied Victor. The boy gave a slight bow of his head and closed the door behind him.

My friend immediately walked back to the bed and slumped down on it. He pulled the old book from his jacket and flipped to a page and started reading under his breath. I took a seat beside him and tried to listen, but he was barely mumbling the words. After a couple lines he looked up and let it fall to his chest, still open. His eyes stared blankly at the low dusty ceiling.

"Is that really the entirety of her plan, I wonder…"

"What are you talking about?" I was beginning to grow worried for Miss Aizen, not that I believed any harm could come from the creature, but the townspeople were at an impasse as to whether she was a witch or not. While I believed Victor's claim that she was under his family's employment would bolster her innocence, I could not get rid of the sound of the anger and disgust I had heard resonating from the downstairs when we had first arrived at the inn.

Victor sat up and glared intensely into my eyes. "After the creature's narrative he asks one thing of me, do you remember what it was?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "You never let me read that far."

My friend nodded as if this fact was trivial. "He wanted a mate. He demanded I create a female in the same manner as him so that he would not be lonely."

"What did you do?"

"After hearing his…threats, it seems I temporarily agreed. But, in the end, I refused and destroyed what I had started to create. I suppose I could not bring myself to complete it after what he did to William and Justine…"

I began piecing things together. "So, you think Miss Aizen means to…"

"Fulfill this role as his companion, yes." He looked away to the window. The path out of town that led to the peak of the mountain was visible through the old glass. "I suppose it's a sacrifice she was willing to make—her society for all our lives."

"Our lives?"

My friend handed the book to me without turning around. "Read the rest of it, Henry. And though it has not come true and you may not believe in it like I do, please forgive my stupidity. The events of this book may not have happened in our reality, but I feel as if in some world they did—and for that other blind fool named Victor Frankenstein, I apologize." He got up and went over to the door. "I'll be downstairs waiting for their departure. Whether you decide to come or not is up to you, and I will bear you no ill will either way."

The door closed and I was alone. I did not know what to expect in the last chapters of the novel. I had read all of it up to the end of the creature's narrative, for Victor had asked me to go no farther. I felt now an impending disquiet hanging over me, as if it was not possible that my friend would really allow me to finish the book. I had the absurd notion that the ink would melt from the pages as soon as I opened it. I flipped to the page I had dog-eared to mark where I had left off and began quickly reading, skimming with determination to take in only what truly mattered.

I sat on the edge of the bed in the cold room for a very long time, barely moving or even noticing the chill bite in the air. I had a vague memory of a maid coming in with a plate of food at some point but she left without my noticing and made not a sound.

I hurried through Victor's conversation with the creature, wondering all the while if it would have really been a bad thing to provide him with a companion. Victor's arguments for failing in his duties as creator were weak and seemed rather lazy in my opinion. Then I got to the part where we left on our journey through Europe, and I found myself put out that my friend never confided in me, or that I did not press him to. I pondered whether Victor would've ever told me his secret had Miss Aizen not been there as a catalyst for him to do so.

And then I came to the part; the part I knew Victor had not wanted me to read. My own death. I felt a shiver go down my body and I wanted to throw the book away from me—but I couldn't. Something compelled me to read the description of my mangled and torn up corpse, and suddenly I was on the floor, retching in dry heaves. My stomach was empty and so there was no way to sate the convulsive need to remove this horrible feeling of dread that I seemed to have swallowed. I got to my hands and knees, choking on the air itself. After a few moments I was breathing heavily, but able to get up. I took hold of the book once more, skipped ahead a few pages, skimmed through another of Victor's fevers to his wedding night. This time I was prepared for the tragedy. The monster had said if Victor did not provide it a mate, he would be there on his wedding night, waiting to exact his revenge. I was puzzled how he could think the monster so dull that it would come after him and _not_ Elizabeth. It was clear this being was clever, as well as creative, and would not be satisfied with destroying its creator alone. It wanted Victor to suffer as he had suffered, bring "god" down to his level of damnation. Only Ernest and Victor's father escaped the monster's wrath, but even I knew that it was not much of an escape to see your loved ones killed and your oldest son and brother go mad and leave, with no word to where he was going.

Seeing the lives of my friends, and myself, destroyed so completely was devastating. I had to remind myself that this was not true. I remembered Victor's words.

_A sacrifice she was willing to make—her society for our lives._

She knew what was going to happen. I felt as if she understood it more than I did myself. She had been carrying the weight of this knowledge for so long, since the very moment we met her—before that even. Where had she come from? Why would she put herself in the middle of this situation? She could have just as easily been killed if her rescue of William had not gone as it did. What would she have done if the boy had been killed before she could get to him, or if the creature had turned on her?

I finished the last words and closed the book. I looked at the cover, my friend's name printed across it and underneath, a penciled in drawing of the silhouette of the monster. With most of his features shadowed, he did not look that disfigured, just large and intimidating and scarred.

Seeing this figure I thought of what Miss Aizen must look like beside him. Her brown hair would be messy and unruly, and her dark eyes would probably have that bemused glint to them that seemed to perpetually shine out from her tanned face. The boy had said they had found them lying together.

The question of how much of a companion Miss Aizen was willing to become to the creature crossed my mind. Images of her laughing smile and the enticing way her skirts swayed out from her hips as she walked weaved in and out of my mind. Her rough mannerisms and strength of personality had taken my affections almost immediately, something I suppose I was realizing too late. Though, looking back, there was nothing I could have really done. She had meant to seek the creature from the very start—I was always meant to be merely an acquaintance. The heat in my face began to rise as I remembered my dream from so long ago, where she stood like a light with a shadow starting to engulf and wrap itself around her. Did she really mean to be the bride of such a being?

I set the book down on the table and then went over to the small basin of water and splashed my face. It felt like ice as the droplets fell from my cheeks and lips. I patted my skin dry with a clean towel and then went back downstairs.

It was now the late afternoon and most of the crowd from earlier had cleared out. The room had grown darker. Only the boy Horace and Victor were sitting in the tavern. Even the landlady was gone from her place behind the counter. The two sat by the open fireplace and were talking in hushed apprehensive tones. Victor turned around at my approach and immediately got to his feet, concern flooding his misty blue eyes.

"Henry…"

I put up a hand before he could continue and gave him as reassuring a smile as I could muster. His expression did not change.

I coughed to clear my throat and looked at both men. "So where has everyone gone? It is nearly evening. Has a decision been made yet?"

Horace looked away and Victor crossed his arms. My friend was the one who spoke.

"Henry, there's been...a murder."

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**Sorry, I'm leaving you on a cliffhanger...**

**Anyway, I'll try to post the next chapter soon, but with all the craziness I'm in till December, I don't know if I'll be able to get to it till then!  
**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway, lots of exposition, but hey, we'll get back to the action in the next part! Thanks for reading!  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey Hey, I'm out of school for a little while! Sorry this is a short update, but I should be posting a longer piece either tonight or tomorrow! I want to thank everyone who's reviewed (a whole whopping 2 people!) you both make me very happy!**

**Anyway, here's a quick look at what's going on with the creature, and then we're back to Henry's POV!**

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Chapter 10

My wound had healed remarkably since that morning, and though it still pained me very much it was no longer unbearable to move about. As a precaution, I had elected to stay hidden in my own trek back to the village, so had kept off the main path. It was slower going, stepping over bushes and ducking under branches, but I was soon glad I had.

About half way down to the village I saw a large group of men carrying torches and different weapons. I remained still behind a group of trees and watched their procession. I recognized two of the men as part of the group that had attacked us that morning. By the light of the torches I could see the grim expressions of each man. Some had traces of fear etched into their frowns; a couple had an intrinsic look of hatred about them. I tried to look for the face of Briand, wondering if he was a part of this mob, but I could not see him. Most of the men were silent, only a few spoke and even those were too low to really hear. It was strange but the snow made their procession quieter, softer even. For a moment I almost revealed myself to them, thinking maybe they had come with supplies after all. It was a foolish urge, and I knew it. I reminded myself that I was looking for the girl.

At that moment a horrific thought crossed my mind. What if they had turned on her in the village, and declared her a witch? What if they had killed her or had her locked up? Perhaps they were going to the cottage to kill me, the demon they thought I was.

I began edging closer to the group of men, hoping to catch any part of their conversation; any word that would confirm or deny my worst assumptions.

I was now at the edge of the path following slowly behind them, and only hidden by a spare line of trees and low bushes.

"Are you sure this is the way?" one of the men asked.

The man leading them, the one I recognized, responded, "Yes, of course it is. You think I don't know my way around?"

"And you're sure the girl went this way?"

The lead man was silent for a moment. "No, she might be hiding somewhere in town or on the mountain." He paused and breathed into his hands before rubbing them together. "Besides, if we don't get her, the cold will."

So she was safe. For the present, at least. A part of my mind urged me to run at the men, scare them, hurt them. But there was the more pressing matter of finding the girl, ensuring her safety, and finding a refuge in which I could fully recuperate.

I began to walk away, but my foot caught on a branch and I fell onto a rock. It pressed into my chest wound and sent a flash of pain through my body. I couldn't help but yell out, both in surprise and from the pain.

"What was that?"

"Look! Look! There's the demon!"

"After him! We can't let him escape!"

I pushed myself off of the ground, clutched at the ragged bandages around my chest, and ran down the path. The village men were yelling now, and throwing rocks and even some of their weapons. But even injured I could keep ahead of them and dodge most of the objects they threw.

Coming around a bend in the path I saw a small light ahead of me, and could just make out three figures in the snow. I decided it would be best to run through them, which would hopefully cause some confusion for my pursuers.

I was almost upon the small group, when one of their faces caught my eye and I almost stumbled again.

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**Again, sorry it's so short, but there will be longer update in the next day or so! I'm not done with this story yet!**


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